#for like 2 minutes before another issue comes forward

[iiseor]

⋆𐙚 ₊ summer strikes . . . (2)

synopsis: forced by joel to spend the summer in a small town consequent her agreement to get sober—ellie's acceptance towards the situation grows significantly the moment you cross paths . . . masterlist

cw/notes: alcohol/drug topics (kinda heavy, this is ur warning). mental health issues for both reader and ellie, ellie is not Joel's daughter in this AU she just stays with him, implications of family member loss. fluff + hurt/semi comfort(?), Abby appearance who cheered ^_^ , shifting more towards readers pov in comparison to the last fic. . . wc: 3.2k tags: @boobdrug @seraphicsentences @amberputh @gato-chino @sourgummywormsss @shiimer @ellieusedtampon

soft sunlight beams through the lightly draped windows as birds set the morning temper. ellie's quilt draped over her body—half on the bed half slipping onto the floor. The night hadn't been exclusive, thoughts pondered her mind making it harder to fall asleep as the hours went by, a few wolves howling from afar in the moutons here and there, the sound of tommy — or maybe you, walking throughout the hall, and the lingering wonder of what joel was doing in that very moment scattering her thoughts until she dozed off.

as the morning crawled in and thoughts crawled out, tranquility filled ellie's body as if she was a new born child. It was the first time in months, maybe even a year since she had woken up without a hangover headache, spiking a nearly nostalgic like feeling. Rolling off the low mattress, she picks up her phone before sighing intensely.

no service

she rolled her eyes before throwing both her hands and phone over her head as she lied back down, still on the cold hardwood floor with her blanket slightly tucked beneath her. The birds had shuffled back into their nests silently and the wolves were hidden from the warm sunlight, ellie lays down for a few minutes before finally standing up, about to stumble out of her room to get washed up before tommy comes pushing through the door.

she jumps back, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. "Oh hey kid ur awake" he says before looking her up and down slightly, ellie rubbing the back of her head in response. "Just came here to tell you to go get washed up, breakfast is on the table then y/n will show you around the farm and whatever, I gotta head into town so I'll see you later" he added. "got it, thank you sir" she said as he tuned to walk away, before he turned back for a second to add another word, hand still on the door knob "tommy is fine, don't use sir..... it makes me feel old" he laughed and she reciprocated before they went their separate ways.

Ellie washed up, staring at herself hard in the mirror after her shower for what felt like eternity as she tried to convince herself this was good. it's all good, and she'll be okay. before she made her way downstairs to eat another full meal, something she remembered looking forward to again after dinner and during her pre-sleep thoughts.

"Hey els!" You greeted her from the table while she came down the stairs. 'Els'... you already gave her a nickname ? She questioned to herself, trying to hide her blushed face. "Hey.." she breathed out in response, you smiled at her in return while she made her way towards the table. "Help yourself! I already finished eating and so did tommy.. did Tommy tell you the plans for today ?" You spoke, picking ur plate up and walking to the kitchen. "Uhm .. no" Ellie replied placing food onto her plate, amazed at the variety and bright colours of fresh vegetables + fruit.

"Oh I figured, I'll take you out to the lake so we can catch some fish for dinner ! I'll also introduce you to the animals if you'd like" you replied washing up your plate. Ellie's response was slow as she swallowed a big fork filled with fruit salad—"yea, that sounds good" she smiled. "Oh perfect!" You smiled back, "I'll go get ready, take ur time though!" You shouted as you ran up the stairs in excitement.

It had been a few months since you had last had people over, let alone people willing to go fishing with you. Your dad was always there, but it felt odd without your mother there to join. When Tommy had informed you of ellies suspected arrival, you spent nearly an hour planning places around town to take her—fishing being at the top of the list.

About an hour passed as Ellie finished the rest of her breakfast, savoring every bite and heading back upstairs to wash up. You eagerly got dressed in your prettiest sundress and shorts, not necessarily the best fit for fishing—but you were so excited it didn't matter.

"Here!" You said pulling a hat off the rack as Ellie came down the stairs towards the front of the door. "This is Joel's, he left it here the last time we went fishing ... which was like a year ago but we still wash it!" You said placing the hat on her head. Ellie's eyes dragged from yours to your lips as you adjusted the velcro cap, fixing her hair as a gentle smile was plastered across your face. "There, perfect" you added as you turned around to grab a sweater and car keys. "T-thanks.." she choked out, watching you in admiration—your pretty flowy dress and sweet scent making her face become flushed.

She followed you out of the house and into your car parked at the end of the curb. Ellie's eyes were flashed with the bright interior of your small yet beautiful car. Decorated with fake plants, lightly pink yet slightly grey covers, and a lili scented air freshener. "I'll take you to see the animals first!" You said buckling up as ellie did the same, "sound okay?" You questioned noticing her awkward posture. "Oh, Uhm.. yea" she answered, distracted by her thoughts of not Joel and everything else that flooded her thoughts the night before—but you as well.

The drive was short and quiet, the farm was close but you drove to avoid being attacked by mosquitoes. You pulled into the rocky driveway as you noticed a barn door open, to your surprise as everyone was supposed to be off today. "I think one of the workers might've left the barn door open" you told ellie as you looked out of the window trying to catch someone in your view. "I'll go check" you replied, ellie was about to protest that you probably shouldn't go alone but you had already left before her words could come out.

She unbuckled her seat belt, sitting anxiously as you went out of sight and disappeared into the barn for nearly twenty minutes. Once you finally emerged from the darkened doors, ellie was met with the sight of you—and a buff women with her hand wrapped around your waist. Fuck, she thought looking at the image as you two walked towards the car. "It's all good" you said opening ellies door for her to step out.

ellie felt short, small even, the moment she was faced to face with the blonde that stood beside you. "This is Abby! She's one of the workers here during the summer, abby this is ellie! she's staying with me and my father" You informed. "Oh, hi" ellie greeted quietly, avoiding eye contact with Abby. "Yea hi" Abby replied in a dismissive tone, her arm still wrapped around you as she turned to your face. Caressing it, she spoke again. "Well I'll let you two do your thing, I was just heading out anyways"

"Alright!" You replied as her grip turned. bitch ellie thought to herself about abby, as she watched the blonde walk away—you still standing with a smile on your face, oblivious to ellies mind. "Cmon ! The horses are around here!" you grabbed Ellie's hand and dragged her around to the stables. Once inside, you noticed how she cringed at the stench—letting out a giggle as she whipped her nose. "You'll get used to it!" you told as she laughed in response—the first time you'd heard her laugh since she got here. "look over here!" You added dragging her by the arm. The two of you stumbled towards the gate as a big, beautiful white haired horse moved its face in your direction. "hi pretty" you spoke softly as you reached to pet the horse, "this is starlight, my favorite one" you whispered leaning towards ellie "she has sensitive ears so we whisper around her. . . Go ahead, pet her" you smiled.

Ellie hesitated, looking towards your direction for confirmation. Once she saw that gentle smile on your face, she lifted her hand and planted it across from yours. Her fingers sunk softly into the horses hair while the two of you caressed it. "She's beautiful isn't she?" You whispered, "yea.... she is" ellie responded — her body being filled with a sudden sense of tranquility again, before your words broke her trance. "Let me take you to see the chickens" you whispered, dragging her away once again towards the chicken coop. "Hi sweetheart" you spoke squatting down to pet one of the chickens, still holding onto ellies hand as she stood watching. You stood up and walked a bit further towards the coop, picking up a baby chick, standing up and turning towards ellie. "She's a new one!" You told, Ellie starring in amusement. "Name her" you added looking up at her, "w-what?" she replied, her eyes becoming soft in confusion. "Name her! I'm always the one coming up with names ... it would be fun to have someone else with one" you hold the chick out for ellie to take into her hand, "here, hold her" you say, ellie placing her hands in the shape of a basket as the chick jumps from your hands to hers.

She admires it, the soft and ticklish feeling as it moves around her palm. "What do you think she is" you questioned, satisfied with ellies fascination with the chick. "Um..." Ellie let out as she thought hard before answering. "Maybe .... um... maybe lily?" She said hesitantly, thinking back to that lili scented air freshener in your car—was all she could come up with. "Oh! That's so beautiful els!" You replied. There goes that nickname again she thought—trying to hide the butterflies forming in her stomach. Ellie handed you back lili and you placed her on the ground, "there's not much else to see honestly, judging by your reaction to the horses I think we should stay away from the sheep! And the pigs will be even worse..." you teased, Ellie laughing back with a "yea probably". "Well, let's get fishing then!" You added dragging her, yet again, this time to the car.

The drive towards the lake was short as well, just a few feet from your house. Luckily for you two, the water was unoccupied and seemingly calm. You unloaded the fishing rods from the trunk and guided Ellie towards the canoes. Struggling to flip it over, ellie lended you a hand. "Thank you so much ... my mom always did this for me" you smiled at her again, "no problem" she responded. The two of you loaded the fishing rods into the canoe and set off into the lake, leaving behind everything besides your sweater, the bait, and her hat.

"So, first ill show you how to put the bait on the rod" you informed, lifting up a light grey rod and the can of bait. Ellie watched in silence, nodding as you showed her how to do exactly what you said you would. "Got it?" You asked in excitement, making eye contact with Ellie—which she was quick to break once she replied. "Yea, thanks" she said, picking up a rod and doing what you had showed her. You stood up and walked to kneel at the edge of the canoe and waved for ellie to come aswell. Once she does, you positioned your rod and swung it into the lake, "just copy me! It's easier than it seems" you watched her as she obeyed, positing her rod and swinging it the same way you did. She held it in the lake as you did, "wait until you feel a tug, then pull hard!" You directed.

The two of you waited a few minutes before Ellie was shaken by the feeling of hee rod being tugged. You lifted your rod out of the lake and lended her a hand as she struggled to lift her own, tugging at it before your grip helped bring it onto the boat. "Woah!" You raised your voice in excitement, "a trout, good job!" You said removing the hook from its mouth and handing it to ellie. "Here! Hold it up!" You said, walking away towards your sweater you had taken off and pulling out a camera. "Smile!!" You squealled as ellie stood and awkwardly smiled for the camera. "How cute" you chuckled, taking the fish from hee and placing it inside of the small cooler kept on the canoe. Ellie blushed in return, and you noticed this time.

She sat down and rubbed her neck before building the courage to speak "Are those edible? Like ... trout?" Ellie questioned in confusion, she was unaware of the diversity within fish—only eating sardines growing up. You laughed at her confusion as you removed the bait from your rod, "nearly all fish in this lake is edible, trout is similar to salmon.. like we had last night!" You informed before sitting across from her. "Oh.. I see" she replied. "It's good for your first time!" You said, paddling around as ellie admired the view of the slowly setting sun, and you—was it that late already? "We should head back soon, so I can cook it for us!" You said, guess it was late. "Unless your tired of fish already.. then I can cook something else" you suggested, ellie immediately protesting that she was fine with whatever and wouldn't mind eating fish for the rest of her life—now making you laugh. How could she possibly give up the chance at another fresh, filling meal? One cooked by you especially.. she'd be crazy she thought.

"Dad?" You called as you and ellie entered the seemingly empty house. "He's most likely not coming back till morning, so it'll just be us eating" you informed ellie through a sigh—catching her off guard with your change in mood. "We should get washed up" you suggested, taking off your sweater and placing it on the rack, ellie doing the same with the hat she had worn. "Oh, you can keep that haha" you told her, picking the hat back up and handing it to her. "Joel probably won't come back for it anytime soon" you added, walking past her and upstairs to change and shower.

The night fell cold with the sunset and crescent moon appearance. You had showered and changed into some pyjamas before heading downstairs and preparing food. The freshly caught trout with mashed potatoes and lightly grilled asparagus being plated before you called ellie down, who without hesitation came to sit with you at the table. shocked by the beautifully set up food, ellie sat across from you at the table. The sight, almost like a restaurant date—if it wasn't for your unstyled hair and pyjamas. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before you got up and offered ellie a drink, pouring her a glass of water—you broke the awkward sound. "So..." you dragged on, "how do you like it here so far?" You asked, biting into your food while waiting for a response.

"It's ... nice, calm" ellie responded, the two of you not making eye contact as you spoke. "That's good.... tommy says ur from the city?" you added onto the conversation. "Yeah" she replied again, you slightly scoffed in response—"why would u come out here?" You questioned with a concerned tone. "What?" She replied with confusion. "Not in a bad way ... I just mean, the city seems cool you know!" You added on changing your tone, attempting to hide the previous one. "Oh... I just ... needed to get away i guess" she answered truthfully though trying to conceal details, before you pressed for more. "Away from what?" You questioned deeper, genuinely curious. "Uhm..." ellie hesitated, taking a sip of her water as your eyes were on your plate, about to take another bite. "Just bad influences .... alcohol and that shi-stuff". She answered again, fully revealing with as little detail as she could contain.

Ellies words made you freeze for a minute, caught off guard by her words—you lifted your eyes to her face, already pointed towards her plate. You paused, thinking of what to say, you spoke softer this time. "I'm.. sorry els.... that sucks" you were careful with your words, trying hard to be sensitive. "It's all good, I'm getting better" she smiled, finally making eye contact with you today. You smiled back before taking another bite. Your mind debated what to say next, what was appropriate to say next, before you let the words come out.

"I get it though..." you lowered your tone again, Ellie's eyes became wider as she coughed a bit before replying. "You do?" She questioned, caught in a befuddled state. "Yea ... i mean, kind of ... obviously not personally like, you in a way ... but my mom struggled with alcohol as well, so I can kinda tell where your coming from.." you rambled on, avoiding eye contact as you spoke while ellies eyes were glued onto you. "I sympathize with you ellie" you added on, now meeting her eyes. "I can't understand fully, but I want you to recover, get better you know ... you're cool" you spoke lastly, catching yourself before rambling on even more.

Ellie caught on to why you had implied. Connecting the previous mentions of your mother with the current one, her vision of you softened with commiseration. "Thank you y/n.... and I'm sorry.... about your mom" she spoke more confidently, separate emotions covering up the anxiety she was drowning in only moments before. You flashed her a smile, "of course..." you replied, standing up to take away your now empty plates in order to avoid another fall of awkward silence between you two. "I can wash these, you already cooked" she said taking the plate from your hand as you were about to pick up the sponge. "Thank you" you replied, smiling at her, and then at yourself as you noticed ellies sudden change in comfort around you, so quickly yet so effective. She was more gentle, and less tense .. all after one conversation.

You walked up the stairs and your bedroom, turning on your fan to drown out the sounds of running water from downstairs before flopping down on your bed. You sighed, pushing yourself towards the headboard and crawling under the covers. Shutting your eyes yet not falling asleep, your mind was crowded. now reminiscing about the day with ellie, you were caught off guard by sudden negativity. You shouldn't have told her about your mom, you shouldn't have pushed with questions, you shouldn't have let your tone slip. Thoughts piled upon thoughts drenched your head making it impossible to fall asleep for a while. You were stuck, upset with yourself for dumping something so heavy onto ellie, and even more upset with yourself for almost slipping back into the disgusting attitude you worked so hard to get rid of.

Had she noticed? Does she see you differently now? Did you ruin this all for her so quickly? Did you trigger her by pressing so much? Fuck was all you could think of in response to your own question. You were supposed to be healed... better at all of this... better at making friends and talking to people. It wasn't ellies job to feel sorry for something like this, you shouldn't have brought it up, you lectured yourself. In truth beneath the surface, turmoil was still present for you. Tommy knew it, though you were adamant about being better. You knew everything still ached every once in a while—more than you'd admit, but you fully believed it was under your own guidance and responsibility that all of it would go away. One way, or another. You drowned out your thoughts with muffled tears as the overwhelming feelings fazed your heart. Falling deep into sleep as everything dissapeared from consciousness, you were sound asleep from dusk till dawn for the first time in weeks.

[shattersstar]

jealousy.

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x reader

prompt: you’re mine by phantogram

a/n: 2/3 <33 enjoy

—

The hum of the bathroom fan seemed to echo in your ears as you watched Jason behind you in the mirror. His fingers toyed gently with the fabric of your dress, trying to free your long sweeping necklace from the fabric. It had gotten caught, pulling tight on your throat until Jason unclasped it. It left no mark, but it seemed Jason couldn’t help himself when his thumb smoothed over the side of your neck before taking you by the elbow to the secluded washroom. The stalls were empty, but he still locked the door. Perhaps embarrassed by his display of affection, his lack of professionalism partially exposed to the bustling room. You twisted around to look at the chain now dangling from the back of your dress, huffing at the sight. Jason didn’t say anything as he shuffled you to the sinks, the lights around the stretching mirror were much brighter.

“This is probably the most aggravating thing I’ve ever done.” He mumbled, quickly meeting your gaze in the mirror with a warm grin. You returned it with an airy laugh.

“On the job or in life?”

He paused for a moment, “Maybe both.” You laughed again.

The sounds of the party livened up at that moment, a flurries of claps as the band swung into a faster paced song. You turned your head to the door, but did not miss the excitement. You were content with your quiet moment, Jason’s hands toying and tugging on you with care. He let out another huff before squatting beside you, you looked down at him, wondering how the chains looped themselves into the fabric like so, but appreciating the care he took in not to ruin the dress nor the necklace.

“You can just break it y’know.” You decided suddenly, watching him peer up at you with a confused expression.

“Okay, I’m not that aggravated.” He reasoned before standing back at his full height. You hummed, looking back to the mirror and taking in your appearance. You were tired, legs aching from standing around all night talking with people you only half cared for. The small group of friends you had come with vanished an hour earlier, and while you were content in Jason’s company, the night itself was dragging on. You were ready to head home, but appearances had you here for another two hours at least. And Jason might have been hired as your body guard, but he was also getting paid to make sure you attended events on top of keeping you safe. Normally it was easy to bear the smiles and mindless chitchat, but Jason had been so bold tonight, you knew it the moment his grin turned wolfish at the sight of you dressed for the casino event.

While he often lurked in corners, against walls and surveying the crowd while you mingled, he had no issue keeping himself close by tonight. Always in distance to reach over and graze the curve of your elbow to get your attention, or send you glances when someone said something of note. You were sure Jason’s close proximity was partially because on top of the fundraiser, the casino floor was open to their usual patrons. Slots singing and voices calling cards turned to dull chatter, as drunk bodies flowed through the sprawling space. He was on edge, but you knew it wasn’t just the event. From the moment he picked you up from your apartment and ogled at you without a care, to his brave touches, thumb brushing against the overheated skin of your neck and all, but dragging you to the bathroom to fix something so minute—Jason wanted a moment alone with you as badly as you wanted one with him. It made you smile, wishing the ache in your legs or the pounding starting to grow in your head would vanish.

It was a hectic space that had drained your social battery like no other. You huffed, bending at the hips to rest your elbows on the counter while Jason let out a low sigh that almost sounded like a whistle. “Hey, watch it.” He muttered, hands noticeable not tugging at your dress any longer. You dipped your head forward, nose almost pressing to the cool marble before you tried to sneak a glance at Jason in the mirror. You locked eyes immediately and a small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. You were never one to challenge his professionalism so boldly, but you two were locked away from prying eyes, and you both couldn’t deny his composure was faltering earlier.

“My feet hurt.” You reasoned, earning a quick dry laugh. Did it really call for you to be bent over in front him when you could just take off your shoes or sit on the counter, no of course not, but Jason didn’t seem to be in an arguing mood with your flimsy logical as he shifted to your side. One of his hands smoothing over the curve of your hip before the other roamed over your partially bare back, flattening his palm against the skin. He pressed his thumb to the centre of your spine, glancing sideways at you in the mirror with a glint in his eyes that was anything, but angry. It was teasing and warm because while you both knew he did enjoy his job, Jason loved breaking rules more than anything. At his heart, core level—whatever—Jason loved forgetting his role as solely a protector, and being something more when no one was around. He wanted to indulge in a life he didn’t have access to for so long, as well you. Indulge in your beautiful body and dangerous scheming eyes. You felt so real and good under his fingertips, even if his touches remained innocent.

He squeezed your waist before his fingers brushed over the chain, “This goddamn necklace,” He grumbled, yanking on it lightly before you leaned into the movement. “Fuck.” He breathed even quieter and you grinned a little wildly against your forearm before pushing yourself back up. You stood at your full height and shook out each of your ankles before Jason managed to unloop the last link.

“Thank you.” You said as he placed it in your hand. Jason only leaned his forehead into your shoulderblade, lips pressing a kiss to the bare skin as a response. You were about to lean your head against his when Jason bit down on your shoulder for a quick second. You yelped and slapped his arm while he mended the bite with another kiss. You only waved him off with an amused grin, tossing your bothersome necklace into your bag before letting Jason lead you out of the bathroom.

Your quiet moment was over, senses overwhelmed once you stepped back onto the casino floor. Your friends were finally in sight, calling you over with laughter bubbling from their mouths already. You turned around to let Jason know where you were headed when you realized he wasn’t behind you. You felt lost for a minute, struck with a minor sense of panic before your eyes fell on him. A few paces behind and arm being held by an older woman who seemed rather friendly. Any thought of reuniting with your friends vanished as you found yourself being compelled towards the duo. Jason caught sight of you in his peripheral, sending you an unreadable expression that had you stop a few feet away. The woman seemed to notice your presence only then, glancing over at you which seemed to snap Jason out of whatever revere she had put him in.

“This is an old client—“

“Don’t call me old!” She teased, slapping the arm she held playfully and making something in your mouth go sour. “Jason was just telling me about his work since coming back to Gotham, you don’t mind if I steal him for a few minutes more? Old friends catching up and all that?”

You blinked between the two of them, half waiting to Jason to interject or someone to shoot you dead, “Uh—no, its no problem.”

“I’ll walk you to your car, you said you were heading out right?” Jason urged, any boyish charm from your private moment gone as he spoke in that calculated voice you had grown used to.

You stood there for a moment, nodding to yourself before boycotting a formal goodbye and heading back towards your friends. You did glance back over your shoulder, expecting to find Jason watching you, but he was leaned in close, speaking into her ear as they headed towards the exit. It made your jaw click, something inside of you turning icy cold. You didn’t know why that made you feel so strange, so possessive and annoyed. She was just someone he used to work for, and you were bound to run into an old employer of his. It all made logical sense and yet you were so undeniably jealous, your friends could read something was wrong clearly on your face.

“Hey, is everything okay? You look pissed.” One of them asked, you couldn’t even tell who in the sea of voices and thoughts rushing your head.

“Yeah, some old client was just all over my bodyguard it was weird.” You explained, trying to sound more confused than hurt.

“Oh we saw that, are you like gonna be okay? Safe I mean?” You only nodded, it was too much to explain all the levels of protocol and security Jason established for moments he couldn’t be near by.

“Well at least its out in the open now.”

“What is?” You asked, still reeling when their next words broke something inside of you.

“I mean c’mon, your bodyguard is so fine, like holy hell he’s unreal.” They all erupted with laughter, agreeing with the statement while you were surprised this had never come up before. Though, stating the obvious—that you were now accompanied by a gorgeous man—would bring up questions, raise things you weren’t ready to lie about. You didn’t even know if you could, let alone wanted to lie to your loved ones. And for how long? Your throat felt thick, too many variables swirled around your head to think straight. You needed air, water, your bed—anything.

“Yeah, I get that a lot—I’ll uh be right back I need a drink—“ You left without another word, leaving a piece of honesty with your friends before the conversation could devolve into anything more. It was true that so many middled aged women fawned over how handsome Jason was, how lucky you were too. Your parent’s friends were particularly insufferable in that regard, but it had always been innocent. Funny even, but knowing your friends had an eye on him, and old clients jumped at the chance to touch and talk to him made it harder to hide your jealousy. The possessive side of you that wanted to scream that no one would ever get to see the side of Jason you did, no one brought that out of him like you did because he told you so. You were the only one Jason’s ever been more than just a bodyguard for, and you know if you stopped paying him, he wouldn’t only stay with you romantically, but he’d still protect you.

You wanted to throw that in everyone’s face, but as you weaved through the crowd towards the second floor bar, you wondered if Jason felt any of this too. You knew what he had told you, and what you felt, but did anger and jealousy toil in him at the secret you two were bound to keep. Was it hard for him to see you dressed up and flirted with, to always be kept at a distance. You were always able to give more of yourself to him, the job demanded that, but did it bother him that boundaries he had to keep? You felt so incredibly selfish and blind for being so upset with him, for being so enraptured in your own feelings you felt wildly inconsiderate of Jason’s. You were beyond distracted, unaware of Jason’s presence catching sight of your figure at the top of the steps, or the fact you were stepping on the hem of your dress. You didn’t fall, but stumbled forward, one of your knees hitting the carpeted floor with enough force it could bruise.

You cursed, hands pressing into the ground as you tried to push yourself up before you even really finished tripping. One of the bartenders had made their way over, but you didn’t even acknowledge the hand extended out to you before another grasped your elbow. You nearly jumped at the touch of their cold hands on your bare skin, but when Jason’s concerned expression fell into view, your angry crumpled almost entirely. He helped you stand to your full height, keeping his hand on you while you kicked the fabric from underneath your feet. His free hand gathered the excess fabric of your skirt, lifting the hem to your ankles while linking your arms. He sent a nod and thanks to the bartender before turning to you.

He led you towards the bar, nose brushing your hairline, “Are you okay?” You pulled away, only minimally to take in his expression, find what you had refused to see before. Jason’s brows furrowed at your action, “What?” He asked, stern, but earnestly confused.

Nervous even.

You looked away, unable to find your voice as he let go of you. He pulled out one of the bar stools for you before taking a seat in the one next to you. He sat facing you, long legs brushing the fabric billowing down the side of your chair.

“Did something ha—“

“No, nothing like that. Nothing to worry about.” You found yourself speaking, hand darting out to rest on his knee as you did. You didn’t want him to be focused on work right now, and you knew you couldn’t ask that of Jason, not here, but making him worry pointlessly was just cruel. “Who was that woman?” You asked instead, testing the waters. You didn’t want your jealousy to bleed into your voice for the sake of your embarrassment and Jason’s emotional burden. He didn’t need to grapple with your somewhat unbridled anger at a person you had met once and one he seemed to have a good relationship with no less.

“An old client, like I said.” He huffed, the irritation lacing Jason’s tone didn’t help quell the anger he had nearly extinguished with his mere presence earlier.

“Oh…kay.” You responded tentatively, letting your hand slip from his leg as you turned your attention to the bar top.

He huffed again, “What?”

“I dunno know, thought you would have more to say. Explain.” You shrugged, trying to keep Jason out of your periphery, but he beckoned you with his intense gaze alone. The quick look you sent him made your heart rate pick up, anger rolled off of him in waves as your approach suddenly blew up in your face.

“Explain? Explain what? Myself? Did I do something where I have to explain myself to—“

“No, no, no thats not what I meant Jay.”

“Then what did you mean? Hmm?” You groaned in the back of your throat before turning to face him properly, your legs pressed into his as you looked at him straight on.

“She seemed really possessive over you and it bothered me. I wanted to know if you had anything to say about that and I’m sorry I asked like an ass. It was just…weird for me.” You explained, doing your best to hold his gaze and honour his anger. “I’m not saying I’m justified in how I feel, but its just how I feel.”

“What do you mean?” He asked quieter, leaning forward. Your brows twitched at the question before Jason specified, “How do you feel?”

“Oh, yeah, well, y’know…” You gestured vaguely, making him breathe out a laugh that brought a smile to your face before embarrassment started to settle in. “Sort of, equally or more so possessive of you.”

“Jealous?”

You cringed a little at the sentiment, but nodded nonetheless. “And I know I shouldn’t be, but my friends said something stupid too and its just like…your you and I’ve known that, but it was just like that reality kept slapping me in the face.“

“And then you tripped.” Jason added.

You laughed this time, “Yeah, then I nearly ate shit on the stairs.”

“Are you worried about me—us?” He mumbled after a beat of silence that felt like peace slowly returning to your chest.

“No, I honestly felt shittier for feeling jealous than actually feeling it. It doesn’t happen often and its usually not that serious, today has just been a lot, but I don’t know how you feel about all of this.” You wanted everything swirling around your mind to be aired out now.

“How I feel?” Jason echoed, something surprised hidden in his tone. It made your heart break from him just slightly, bleeding for him as it often did. “You mean jealous?”

You nodded, wanting him to have the space to say what he wanted to say. Instead Jason barked out a laugh, almost surprised you were bringing this up. Your brows twitched and you were worried he was mad again. You opened your mouth to speak, but the glint in his eyes mirrored the one he had wore all evening. Jason was pushing out of his chair and helping you out of yours before you could comprehend, letting him lead you deeper into the casino it seemed, some hallway you were sure was reserved for staff, but deserted nonetheless.

You leaned against the wall, while Jason hovered in the centre of the hall. It seemed like the distance was calculated, purposeful. You gestured for him to speak, but all Jason did was let out a low chuckle, gaze falling to the ground between your bodies while he shook his head. “Jay we don’t have to talk about this—“

“But you want too?” God—he was full of questions today. He still wouldn’t look at you and for the first time ever you couldn’t read him. It was what had drawn Jason to you, how quickly you saw through him and all his shit. It made him smile when he thought about it, but you wouldn’t be able to see that anyways.

“I wanted to be honest, it crossed my mind heavily that I was being kinda inconsiderate towards you and your feelings. Sure I hate the…distance between us sometimes, but I never thought about how it difficult it is for you.”

He was silent, the tense air swollen with your palpable anxiety as a long moment passed. Jason stood staring at the floor, while you reeled, had you pissed him off, had he never considered this, had you misread something?

And then he spoke, low and slow, like he was unsure how the words fit in his mouth. “Baby I spend every second jealous at these fucking events. Every person who gets to be around you for longer than five minutes is someone I hope tests me—and that woman? Don’t ever be jealous of her, or any client that I used to work for, their the reason I left Gotham and,” He took a breath, shifting closer while you stared at Jason with wide eyes. “And you’re the reason I stay.”

You opened your mouth once, than twice before realizing you didn’t have the words to respond. Only a saucer eyed stare, and heavy breaths were offered. Jason took that as an invitation to keep going, his dress shoes nudging yours as he moved closer. “And its sweet—so fucking sweet—you’re worried about me, about how I feel, but sweetheart, as long as I’m the person taking you home—I don’t care,” Jason crowded your space, nose brushing yours as your hands found the lapels of his suit. You smoothed over them, trying so hard not to wrinkle the fabric in yours fists as his nose brushed your bottom lip.

“No one gets to see the side of you that I do.” You murmured, urging his eyes back up to yours. They were alight with something dangerous, but his grin, crooked and conniving told you enough. You had hit the mark, had understood what he felt so clearly because you felt it too.

He breathed out a chuckle, “Exactly.”

Then Jason kissed you, and while you two had kissed before, this was something else, something words felt too simple for. It was a travesty to have to keep Jason at a distance when he felt so real under your palms and his mouth tasted so good against yours. His hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your head back as his fingers massaged the skin there. You were pressed into the wall, but didn’t mind the cold against your back as he continued to kiss you open. His teeth found your bottom lip, tugging before he mended his harshness with an opened mouth kiss. He licked his way into your mouth then, his hold on your jaw tightening ever so slightly as he let himself explore, kiss you without inhibition or care. You knew this moment wouldn’t last, that the job would come first and you’d spend another hour miserable and wanton.

The thought threatened to sour your mood, but you were to wrapped up in Jason’s mouth moving against yours to let it. You fumbled with your clutch as he continued his assault, pressing softer kisses to your lips before trailing to where his fingers held onto you. His tongue slid over your jaw, making your knees shudder before he left a wet kiss there. You managed to open your bag without sight, Jason preoccupied with his ministrations to notice you wound the long chain of your necklace around your hand a few times before yanking with the other one. The twinkling sound of gold loops raining onto the marble floor broke Jason out of his revere as your necklace seemingly shattered. He stepped back, as more fell, splayed out on the floor and individual or broken sections of the chain now caught in the skirt.

Jason’s gaze snapped from the ground to your eyes. “You didn—“

“I did, lets go tip whoever has to clean this an obscene amount of money and go home.” You stepped over the mess, trying not to laugh as more loops rolled over your dress. Jason stayed silent as he wrapped his hand around your arm before following diligently behind you as you made your last rounds of the night. Pointedly avoiding your friends who you just needed a breather from before apologizing to the casino manager for the mess. You played your part perfectly, garnering all the sympathy and sad farewells before deflating into Jason’s car. You glanced over to him as he got in the driver seat, wasting no time before his hand found your thigh and the car was cruising down the highway. You placed your hand over his and felt all the tension drift from your shoulders as Jason’s words rang through your head. This was all he needed after every night, you real underneath his palm and next to him in his car, spending the night god knows where, together.

[nattinatalia]

JACK HARLOW X READER : ANNIVERSARIES & SIXTY-NINES

A/N : This is a second collaboration with my buttercup @harlowcomehome 💚 if you haven’t read our very first collab, here’s where you can find it, part 1 2 & 3 always fun and an honor working with you babes. Ilyyyyy for life 💚🤞🏼

“But, wait. Listen to me, you’re not listening to me” Jack was shouting, something he rarely ever did especially so early in the morning.

“Can’t you back out? They can’t find another opener? It’s not about the money. I don’t care, I want to make sure I’m here.” He was sitting on the couch, his elbows pressed against his thighs.

You walked out of the bedroom, keeping your eyes on him. It was clear that he was very upset. You had only made out a few words in the conversation.

“Fuck it. Okay,” he said, throwing his phone to the side as he prematurely hung up on whoever he was talking to.

“Everything okay?” You walked over to him, rubbing his back as he tried to regain his composure.

He shakes his head, “I- Chris booked me for a last-minute festival.”

“Okay?” You don’t know what’s the issue with that since Jack loves to perform every chance he gets. “And you’re upset?”

He turns to look at you, “Babe, it’s this weekend.”

“Oh,” You realize what that meant immediately. “Baby, I knew our schedules would eventually clash with important dates. It’s okay.” You reassure him, pushing back his curls.

“No, it’s not, it’s our first wedding anniversary and I’m supposed to be here with you. We’re supposed to celebrate together. I had things planned for us and now they’re ruined.”

“We can always celebrate when you get back, I promise you I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Baby, when we got married I made you a promise that I would never miss important moments involving our relationship. I promised you that I would be here.” He leans back on the couch, his hands covering his eyes.

“Jack.” You quickly straddle him, both of your legs on each side of him and you pull his hands away from his face. “Please listen to me.”

He stares at you, you can see his eyes getting watery, signs that he’s annoyed and upset. “You have nothing to worry about. I know you wouldn’t miss celebrating our anniversary on purpose. You’re an amazing husband, who always goes above and beyond. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure you’ll be here on time and if you’re not, I can always fly out to you baby.”

You rocked back and forth in his lap, he covered his face again with his hands. You heard sniffling coming from underneath them.

“Jack, my love, don’t cry” You lean forward to hug him, his head resting on your shoulder.

“I’m just frustrated,” he whimpered. “ I feel like a bad husband. Chris assured me I’d be back the night before but it just feels like I’m cutting it too close” he was still talking from behind his hands.

You pried his fingers away from his face, “ I love you, let’s make the most out of today. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning” he mumbled as he wiped his face. It broke your heart to see him cry.

“Let’s make the most of today then? I don’t have anything planned” You smiled and he nodded.

The next day Jack had to leave early in the morning to catch his flight, granted he was flying in the private jet but he just wanted to get the weekend over with.

You woke up to drawers being slammed and grunts coming from Jack. “Baby?”

“Shit, sorry I woke you up.” He’s throwing clothes into his suitcase, not even bothering to fold them, which is weird to you since he’s such a control freak about that.

“I was going to wake up soon anyway.” The alarm you had set last night goes off and you quickly stop it.

“Where’s my passport?” He asks, looking around the room.

You quickly get off the bed and head to him. “It’s in your hands baby.” You reach out for it. “I need you to relax, papi.”

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep sigh “I just can’t believe I’m missing out on our anniversary.”

“Hey, no more of that. Let me help you pack” You start taking everything out. “Then we can have breakfast so I can drop you off at the airport.”

He shakes his head “I think it’s best you stay here, I’ll have Urban pick me up.”

You stop folding his clothes, “Wait, why?”

“I’m already having a hard time with this, you dropping me off will make me not want to go at all.”

“Bubs, I need you to be okay. I don’t want to be worried when you’re gone. I need you to be one hundred percent fine. You’ll get there and it’ll go by quickly and then you’ll come back home to me.”

“I know.” He nods, “I know I’m overreacting but I just wanted this weekend to be perfect.”

You smile at that. “And it will be.” You close up his suitcase. “Now come on, let's have breakfast and cuddle on the couch before it’s time for you to leave.”

You made Jack breakfast, rubbing his shoulders as you made sure he ate. He was always grumpy when he didn’t, and he had a long flight. You wanted to spare the others.

When he was done eating the two of you cuddled on the couch like you asked, you could tell his spirit was still sad.

“Baby, you’ll be back in time and we will have a nice dinner, and then maybe…” you giggled which peaked his attention.

“And what?” His brown furrowed, and before you could answer you heard a honk outside.

“Looks like Urb is here” You stood up to give him a hug and kiss goodbye.

“Baby” he whined followed by a chuckle. “That’s not fair.”

“Have a safe flight!! Don’t keep Urban waiting” you giggled before slapping his butt as he left out of the door.

The next two days dragged for both of you but mainly for Jack. He didn’t leave you second-guessing for a bit, and he let you know how much he missed you as often as he could.

He even sent you over your daily flower arrangement and that would always make you smile.

After his festival performance, he made sure he was ready to go so all he had to do was head to the airport and board the jet. His friends understood why he was in such a hurry, so they just followed behind him without saying a word.

“Dude come on we’ve been waiting for the pilot for thirty minutes.” Jack is tapping on his knee desperately, impatient as ever.

“Relax Jack, we’ll get there on time.” Neelam tries to get him to calm down, but she knows it’s a failed attempt.

“The dinner reservation I made is in two hours, I should’ve been back home by now. Fucking Chris needs to stop booking things without coming to me first.” Before the show started, he was informed that he had a few radio interviews he had to do, this caused him to be late to the show and he was now running late to go back home.

After waiting thirsty more minutes the pilot finally arrived and they were up in the air in no time. He was texting you back and forth, making sure you were awake and ready to go. All he had to do was take a quick shower and you’d be out the door.

Once he landed back in Louisville, his driver was already waiting for him there so he made it home in no time.

He noticed the lights were off which confused him. “Y/N?” He yelled out as soon as he walked in.

“Hi, baby.” You walk out of the kitchen, heading to him.

“Why aren’t you ready? I’ll just shower real fast and then we can head out to the restaurant.”

“Hmm about that.” You place your hands on his waist. “I canceled the reservation.”

“What?”

“Okay let me rephrase that.” You chuckle lightly. “I rescheduled for tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Papi, I knew you’d be tired. I can tell you’ve barely slept and I need you to eat something.” You get on your tippy toes and give him a few kisses on his neck.

“I had things planned, baby.”

“I know, I spoke to Neelam and I made sure that everything you had planned for tonight, you could do tomorrow. Tonight is all about you.”

“We’re supposed to be celebrating us ” he reminded you.

“We are, and we will tomorrow. Right now I need you to undress and get into the tub, I have a bath ready for you, then we’ll eat and who knows, I’ll probably spoil you with a massage and some baby-making.” You wink at him.

“Baby making, did you say baby making?” He chuckles as he starts to undress right there in the living room, dropping his bags to the side.

“Mhm,” you smile as he grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom. “Join me?”

“I can’t, I need to make sure I get the food out of the oven but I’ll sit there with you.” You pointed to the tub that was full of stress-relief eucalyptus bubbles.

“Smells good” he sniffed the air before getting into the warm water. “This feels good,” he breathed out.

“I put some bath salts in there for body aching, I know how you feel after a show.”

“Baby you’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it” You grabbed a headband off the bathroom counter, putting it underneath his curls to make sure they were out of his face.

You pulled up a bar stool next to the tub, making sure you had a good angle. You started to massage his shoulder blades.

“Mmmm baby, that feels good” he sighed, leaning back in the tub.

You continue to rub at his shoulders and give him little kisses here and there where his freckles are at. “Damn, have you been working out babe?”

“I hit the gym over the weekend, needed to clear my mind”

“My grumpy baby.” You give him a last squeeze and stand up.

He groans “Where are you going?” He reached for you, tugging at the ends of your little lavender silk pajama dress.

“I have to check on dinner, you finish up here and meet me in the kitchen.”

He stands up. “I’m done, I just want to spend time with you.”

“Hmm.” You can’t help but stare below his waist.

“Y/N.” Jack chuckles.

“Sorry, umm yeah meet me in the kitchen.” You quickly head out of the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen to check on the food.

You take out the pan with food and place it on the counter and start setting up the table. You light up some candles and spread some rose petals around the little setup you have.

“What is all this?” You look up and see him smiling with a little tint of red on his cheeks, signs of him blushing.

“Just a little dinner for us.” You light up the last candle. “Come, sit baby so I can fix your plate.”

“Are we having wine or champagne?”

“Since when do you drink?” You chuckle, as you’re putting the food on two separate plates.

“Tonight’s a special night, so why not?” He shrugs, unscrewing the bottle and pouring it into some champagne flutes.

You two are finally seated and eating, you cooked a steak alongside mashed potatoes and some green beans. For dessert, you had made a tres leches cake that you were now sharing.

“Mhmm, this is by far my favorite cake that you’ve baked.” He moans after taking a bite of the cake.

“You say that to all the cakes I make.”

He nods, “Yeah because they’re that good.”

“Do you want more whipped cream?” You got up from your chair and went to the refrigerator to grab the whipped cream.

“Yes please.” As soon as you hand it to him, he quickly pulls you to his lap.

“JACK!” You giggle, placing your palm on his chest.

He pushes back your hair and smears some whipped cream on your neck. “JACKMAN.”

He quickly goes to lick it off you, sucking on your neck as he goes. “Hmm, bab-baby” you squirm on his lap. “That’s going to be sticky.”

“You’re going to be sticky either way.” He stands up, and you’re still very much wrapped up around his body. “You took care of me enough tonight, it’s my turn now.”

He continued to suck and kiss your neck, his hand slowly migrating between your legs.

You stood up as you felt the core of your stomach grow tighter. “I need you in that bedroom, now.”

“Bossy hmm? I like it” he picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom bridal style. He plopped you down on the bed and before he could start to kiss you, you stopped him.

“Baby, you had such a long day, let me take care of you first” the two of you got undressed. You watched as his dick sprung free. You got in a position for him to eat you out while you sucked him off.

“We’re doing this tonight?” He smirked, he gripped your thighs with both hands, ready to position you over his mouth.

“Let’s see who cums first” you challenged, you massage his balls as you took him into your mouth.

He pulled you down to him, his mouth sloppily licking and sucking at your folds, he took your clit into his mouth and started to hum, a trick he knew always worked.

Your legs started to tremble, and you felt close, you decided to focus on the tip, knowing that usually drove him to orgasm too.

“Baby, baby, babe” his voice was panicked underneath you. “I’m going to- I need to” and he did.

You felt him release against your tongue, and that was enough to make you orgasm on his face, not that he was complaining.

You got off of him, bringing him a wet towel to wipe his face and other body parts down with.

“That was amazing” he rasped, as you waddled to the bathroom. He hadn’t even been inside you yet and you were tingly all over.

You went to the bathroom to wipe yourself clean, when you walked out of the bathroom you found your husband still naked and asleep in bed, loud snores coming from him.

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself. “I knew he was tired,” You say to yourself.

You walk toward him and cover him with the blankets, turn off the lights, and get into bed next to him.

You can’t help but stare at him while he sleeps for a bit. The room was dark but you could still make out his face. You knew he was stressed and tired, so it was a matter of time before he fell asleep.

After a few more glances at him, you lay your head on his chest and try to sleep. His snoring never kept you awake, if anything it calmed you.

You finally fell asleep after about ten minutes of repositioning, and before you knew it you were being woken up by kisses going up and down your neck and his beard scratching you as he continued.

“Mmhmm, baby?” You rasp out.

“Sorry baby” he paused to kiss you “I fell asleep on you.” He placed another kiss on your temple “But now the real celebration starts.”

He was quick to remove the blankets and you knew he had been awake for a while before he started to kiss you, he never woke up with this much energy.

“What did you have in mind?” You yawned as you sat up to get a better view of him. You realized he had never got dressed.

“Well, it is our anniversary so what if we practice making a baby” he wiggled his eyebrow before bending down to kiss you.

“I’d like that” you smiled “happy anniversary baby.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 6

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* brief mentions of medical procedures/accidents, protective Max, imaginary friend nostalgia, telephone anxiety, secrets revealed. Summary: An important conversation with Max takes more sharp and unexpected turns that a labyrinth and is followed by even more revelations from another source. Notes:  Again, deep apologies for the erratic posting this week. I swear we're back on track now!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

The developing rhythm of the days is overtaken with masquerade planning, and it occurs to you somewhere in the first few days of going through decorations and flyer wording with Allison, Tracy, and Candance, that what you're doing here isn't that far off from the life of one of the Gilded Age hostesses that you're imitating with your party theme. Tonight is for relaxing, however, as Dancing with the Stars night has come around again. There was a lot of debating back and forth with yourself but here you are standing outside of Max's room at ten minutes before eight and shaking in your stylish yet affordable boots while you knock – unsure if you're hoping that he's been looking forward to tonight or if you'll be surprised if he even gave it any thought.

There is no answer after the first knock, and his door is closed, so you're left with a dilemma: try again and be disappointed when it seems as though you're being ignored...or just give up after one try and go watch your show alone like you would have done otherwise. Like you would have done before Max watched with you last week and shared a part of himself with you on that couch. Before he insisted on being your escort to the masquerade. Before he danced with you in the ballroom. Before you think he was about to kiss you. It's the culmination of everything that gives you the smallest semblance of hope, and you knock again – a little louder – only to receive no answer all over again.

With your head hanging a little lower, you take yourself to the sitting room alone and turn on the tv.

******

"Cutting it close Max." Mrs. Taylor tuts at him as Max rushes around the kitchen.

"I know, I know." He hisses as he tries to make sure the hot chocolate has the perfect ratio of cream to chocolate. Nearly burning his blood that is warming up in the process. Burnt blood stinks and he can't waste the few minutes that he has before the show starts trying to air out the kitchen. "I couldn't watch it with her without snacks, though."

"She liked the tray you brought up last week that much?" The housekeeper makes no effort to hide her smile as she cleans up the kitchen from prepping tomorrow morning's breakfast. She found a new baked French toast recipe that soaks overnight that she thinks you will love.

“She ate it.” That is a high praise in his mind because all this food tastes like shit to him. The point for him is to make you feel good.

"Then you had better get going." The clock on the wall reads three minutes until the hour and she smiles privately as Max hurries to finish when he realizes the time.

"I know, I know." As soon as the hot chocolate is on the tray, along with his own cup of blood, Max is out of sight. Using that speed to make it from the kitchen in the basement to the floor where you are in less than a few seconds. Having to take extra time to keep the hot chocolate from spilling or the snacks from rattling around too much. "Good, I made it." He huffs like he’s out of breath when he comes into the sitting room to find you already curled up on the sofa like before.

“Max?” Even though you practically jump three feet in the air when he appears — you didn’t hear him coming — the smile on your face is a complete betrayal of how glad you are to see him. With his tray of snacks in hand Once more, you immediately scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. “I…went to knock on your door to see if you wanted to watch with me again. When you didn’t answer…” you shrug instead of finishing your thought, mostly just relieved to have been wrong.

“Sorry.” Max shoots you a small grin. “I was down in the kitchen. I realized about ten minutes before that I hadn’t figured out the snack situation.”

“I wasn’t sure if after…the other night…” It was two days ago that you’d danced in the ballroom together and somehow you could still swear that you feel his hand on your back. But that’s not to be dwelled on, and you shake your head to pitch the thought away. “Never mind. Come and sit down?”

“Gladly.” Max sets the tray down and picks up the hot chocolate to hand to you. “Who’s your money on tonight?”

“Jason Mraz did really well last week, but the Marvel actress might be a ringer. It’s hard to tell if it’s that, or just that she’s young and picking it up quickly.” The smell of the cocoa is already a sense memory locked away in your mind, and you inhale happily before telling yourself it’s far too hot to take a sip right away. Mrs. Taylor had made you cocoa one afternoon this past week but — you hate to admit — it didn’t hold a candle to Max’s. “Latin Night is always fun, though. Somebody’s Cha Cha is bound to go wildly wrong.”

“Cha Cha is so hard to do when you don’t have natural rhythm.” Max snorts and waggles his brows at you playfully. “Not everyone has it like me and you.”

It feels like he’s flirting with you — if you can even remember what flirting feels like anymore — and before you can even blink your cheeks are flushed hot in response. “It’s not fair, ya know,” you mumble sheepishly. “My competitions were filmed. But…after you said it…I looked for yours. They weren’t.”

“No, they wouldn’t have been.” Max smirks slightly, pleased that you had been searching for his own videos. “Romanian Ballroom Dancing competitions aren’t filmed.” He snorts. “Kind of like Russian Ballet practices I guess.”

“Is that in case Dracula shows up?” You snort slightly at your own joke and take a first sip of the cocoa he’s brought you. It’s just as amazing as you remember and you hum happily at the rich, creamy taste.

He chuckles and shrugs. “Maybe, you never know. Or maybe it’s not filmed since vampires couldn’t show up on old film? Since it was processed with silver back in the day? Tradition, I guess.”

“Ballroom dancing vampires.” Another soft laugh escapes you and you reach for a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl he brought. “That would be a sight to see. Imagine a vampire doing a Viennese waltz? That sounds like it would be the most elegant thing in the world.”

There’s a moment where Max considers telling you. Like this is the segue into the ‘I’m a vampire’ conversation that he wants him to have with you. “Very elegant.” He hums. “As if they are gliding.” Call him a coward, but he’s gotten used to your warmth and he doesn’t want to have you terrified of him just yet.

“Maybe you should be a vampire for the masquerade, then.” It’s bold, at least for you. To joke and tease and flirt like this. For so many years this kind of behavior simply wasn’t allowable in your life. But with Max — and even with Eddie and Renee and everyone else in this house — it’s like the old parts of your personality are starting to come back to life.

“That will be easy.” Max grins. “Does that mean you’ll be the Vampire Bride?” He asks. “Big, blood red gown with a veil?”

“I bet I can find an old wedding gown at a thrift store and get some red fabric dye at the craft shop in town.” It sounds silly and light, and like the kind of thing that would have made you laugh a long time ago. What you won’t do is let yourself have any illusions about it meaning anything to Max. Eventually you’ll have to admit to yourself that you have a crush on him, but not just yet.

“You should ask Mrs. Taylor to take you to the dress room.” Max snorts. “Use one of Ms. Brown’s dresses.”

“There is a dress room?” Suddenly this knowledge is far more important than the fact that the show is starting, and your eyes widen at Max. “Is that where the dresses we wore last week came from?”

“I assume so.” Max shrugs. “One of the storage rooms in the attic is where Mrs. Taylor has everything.”

“This house is insane.” You huff, shaking your head and turning to the tv for a moment before looking back at Max. “Everybody seems to be very into vampires around here. I think it sounds fun for costumes. A—as long as you do.”

“No reason not to be into vampires.” Max snorts with a small smirk.

“I guess I’ll have to see what’s in the dress room.” Returning his smile seems so much easier than you had thought it could be, even just a few days ago.

He chuckles and nods towards the tv. “Op, here’s our first contestants on ‘Who’s Gonna Twist An Ankle’.” He adopts a smarmy TV persona voice just to see if you will laugh. It earns a snort and a giggle from you, and you pull your sweater around your shoulders and shift unconsciously closer to him. He isn’t a warmth so much as he feels safe, which is a welcome change from the brash teasing of the first few days of knowing him. “Christ, look at those heels.” Max winces when he sees the clunky shoes on the female performer. “She’s gonna break an ankle, not twist one.”

"I always liked the sequined and bedazzled sneakers on the swing dancers at my studio in high school." You muse, comfortable enough to get lost in a memory while you sip your cocoa beside him. "I swore up and down that I was going to start competing in swing, too. Just to get some."

“Those are cool looking.” He nods as he watches the screen, hyper aware of you beside him and he’s happy your pulse is nice and slow. You’re relaxed. “You know, you could always start up again. You have the perfect practice area.”

"I have nothing but time, I guess." Right now you spend all your time reading, with the girls from the coven, or planning the masquerade. You really have become like an upper-class Gilded Age lady in no time flat. "But..." Glancing over at him, you find his attention on the tv and not on you, which makes you bury your face behind the mug again. "Lessons are always...they're awkward unless you have a good partner."

“So you find yourself a good partner.” He makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world and it honestly is. It just requires you to ask him.

The moment of quiet that stretches between you is where you struggle with yourself. Personal inner strength hasn't exactly been a strong suit of yours in the last few years – or more – and you don't really know if he'll accept if you ask him anyway. Being so afraid of the question means that you start to shift nervously beside him until finally the show's first commercial break blasts across the screen and you scrub both of your eyes with the meat of your palms. It doesn't have to be romantic. You don't even know if it should be romantic at all. But you know you won't enjoy dancing with anybody else nearly as much. Not if the other night was any indication. "If you're too busy or you don't want to find a studio with me, I would totally understand..." you manage, not quite able to look him in the eyes. "But dancing with you was...it was really natural."

“It was, wasn’t it?” Max grins and turns to face you. “Like it was meant to be.”

“You…don’t mind?” That surprises you more than it probably should. Especially because he actually sounds happy about it.

"Dancing with you?" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Why would I mind?" He asks seriously. "It was the most fun I've had in years."

“I’m just…” When you blow out a breath it feels a lot more self-deprecating than you mean it to be. You were only trying to state a fact. “Not usually people’s first choice.”

"Not people's first choice or not your ex's first choice?" Max asks, wanting to know why you think so lowly of yourself. To see how badly this asshole damaged your self-esteem.

“I already told you.” Curling in on yourself again is instinct, and your eyes drop to the pillow you’ve been holding in your lap. “The night I met him I had gotten stood up at a bar. So it’s clearly not just him.”

"Do you know who stood you up?" You had said it was a blind date, so maybe it’s one of those issues like 'fuck the dude got into a car accident' or something.

“It was a friend of a friend. Some guy that my roommate was taking her art history elective with that she said was so cute and so my type.” You shrug again, burying deeper on yourself. “She said he agreed to it and then dropped off the face of the planet. Stopped coming to class and everything. But…at the time I didn’t care as much. I’d met Derek instead.” Now though…for years now…you’ve wondered time and time again what that guy would have been like and how your life would have been different if he had showed up. “Probably took one look at me through the windows and decided he’d rather drop out than have to have a drink with me.”

Max frowns and shifts in his seat. The memory almost completely obscure and faded through time. There had been other pressing matters, other things that had consumed him that he had completely forgotten about it. He hadn't meant to, but the idea that he was supposed to meet you the day that he had been expelled shakes him to his core.

“What?” The frown on his face makes you frown even more deeply, and the impulse to smooth away the furrow between his eyebrows with your thumbs has to be squelched immediately.

"It's— it's nothing." He shrugs casually, or in a way that is supposed to appear casually. "It's not like your roommate was Shandra Taylor or something."

Now it’s your brow that furrows, the deep ridges marked with confusion. “You knew my roommate?” It’s not impossible, of course. You went to the same college during overlapping years. He could have known Shandra. She was exceptionally outgoing and kind, lots of people knew her.

Max blows out a breath, completely fabricated but he enjoys the little nuances that remind him of human life. “I knew her.” He shakes his head. “You were supposed to meet the blind date at that shitty little bar down from the dorms, right? The ones with the great wings and darts?”

“Bowen’s…” It’s not like it’s a difficult guess, considering that particular bar was a frequent haunt of Vanderbilt students. They notoriously ‘forgot’ to ID so undergrads loved it there.

Max closes his eyes and drops his head into his hand. “In October, that Friday the 13th?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer but he gives a small chuckle. “I promise you I didn’t take one look at you and run away.” He huffs. “That’s the day I was expelled.”

“Oh gods…” The way that idea twists in your gut is haunting, making you feel instantly sick as you shrink back in your seat — a move that accidentally spills cocoa on your sweater and you curse and apologize for the mess as though you’d gotten it on him and not yourself. “Fuck— sorry. I’m so sorry, I—shit—” Your breathing picks up as you start to panic, pulling off your sweater in the process and curling in on yourself on the couch beside him while your mind spirals. It was him. It was Max. He was supposed to meet you. It was Max—

“Hey, hey.” Max doesn’t know how to interpret the fact that you are about to have a panic attack, but he doesn’t like it. He takes you by the shoulders, turning you towards him and ignoring the way you flinch. Looking into your horrified eyes and trying to ignore the way his dead heart clenches, he starts to speak. “Calm down.” He tells you slowly, using his powers of suggestion. “Breathe slowly. In.” He pretends to inhale. “And out.” He slowly exhales even though air does nothing for him. “Everything is fine…”

The calm that washes over you is instant and consuming, even if being told to calm down doesn’t usually help at all. This time it seems to be the magic charm of the whole situation, and you feel yourself relaxing easily in his grip. “I’m sorry…” you murmur, squeezing your eyes shut tight and slumping softly against him with your sweater balled up in your hands. “I just—I’ve spent years wondering what happened…and thinking of it as something awful that happened to me. And that’s so fucking selfish when I finally know what a terrible thing happened to you that day…”

“You didn’t know.” He reminds you quietly. His hand on your arm and stroking the back of it lightly. “You couldn’t have known. Shandra didn’t know what happened.”

“I’m so sorry.” Not a single second of your own unhappiness stands up to the way his life was basically ruined in one fell swoop, and you wish you were brave enough to push past self-consciousness and hug him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Max promises, giving you a vulnerable half smile. “You didn’t do it. I just wish I hadn’t stood you up that night. I just— I completely blanked out on it.” He admits.

"You had much more important things on your mind." Life changing things. Although now you can't imagine all the ways your life would have been different if you had met that night.

“I still shouldn’t have stood you up.” If he had known then what he knows now, there’s no way he would have missed that date. His thumb rubs over your birthmark gently.

"Sorry." The instinct is immediate once again, and you move to put your sweater back on to cover the birthmark that Derek had hated so much.

“What are you sorry for this time?” Max huffs, smirking at you slightly and not letting you move out of his embrace.

“The—my—I mean—” Letting out an exaggerated sigh at your own very clear trauma responses (you know what they are, you’re self-aware enough to realize), you shake your head when Max doesn’t let go of you. “Derek hated my birth mark,” you explain quietly. “He was completely anti-soulmate. So I got used to covering it. You just…you touched it a second ago. That’s all.”

“Probably because the motherfucker didn’t have one.” Max sneers, his opinion of your ex falling even lower than it had been, and it was in the dirt. It sounds like this asshole wouldn’t even be a man Max would eat. He would just rip his throat out. “Can I see it?” He asks quietly. This is the moment. If you say no, he won’t press. If you say yes, you’ll learn that he’s your soulmate.

“Um…sure, I guess…” It’s just an oddly shaped set of marks in your skin that your mother insisted looked like a clover, but you just always thought it was a little muddled. Maybe roughly diamond shaped if you squint. Not sure why he would care, you turn in your seat to let him see the back of your right shoulder where the marks have sat your whole life.

“There it is.” Max swallows, his mouth suddenly dry when he sees your mark as a human. “Do you think it’s more diamond or clover shaped?” He asks you, tracing it with his finger. “I always thought diamonds because they are expensive.”

“I’ve kind of thought it was more of a diamond but my—” His comment registers just a moment too late and you pause. “Always?”

His eyes watch you carefully as he nods. “Always.” He confirms softly.

“What do you…?” Straightening up again, your head tilts uncertainly.

Max bites his lip and stands up. He knows he will have to show you. Already out of his suit jacket, he starts to unbutton his vest. “Always wondered what they looked like on someone else.” He admits as he shrugs out of it and starts to undo his cufflinks.

“Max…” Watching him undo himself is a level of arousing that you hadn’t expected, but it’s far more confusing because you’re trying to wrap your head around what he’s saying to you.

“If you are disappointed, I’ll understand.” He tells you, wanting you to know that despite the marks that he shares with you, he doesn’t expect you to do anything. Not when you just got away from a monster. Ironic, coming from him.

When his shirt is finally moved aside, your gasp fills the room loudly enough to drown out even the applause on television. “Oh gods…” It’s right there — the relatively small marks look bigger on his skin but they’re unmistakable. Max is wearing your mark. “I—but—how?” You manage, holding your breath and trying to contain yourself so you don’t reach out and touch him without permission. “I lost my soulmate’s marks four years ago. How do you still have mine?”

Here comes the part that you aren’t going to believe. “There’s an explanation for it, but, you’re going to think I’m nuts.” You frown slightly, but you don’t say anything so he continues. “I—uh, I died four years ago. I mean, I was destroyed. And when I was brought back…all my tattoos and shit, scars, they were gone.”

“You…died and were brought back?” Chewing on your bottom lip, you can’t quite fathom what the hell he might mean by that but all that comes to mind is those fast-paced scenes from medical dramas. “Were you…in an accident or something?” It wouldn’t explain how his scars and tattoos are all gone unless…you suppose skin grafts would explain it. But that’s a lot of skin grafts.

“Not exactly.” He gives a wry grin, looking down at you with a small shrug. “I got staked.” It still irritates him how Evan won, but he could admit he got cocky. Made mistakes. At least he was brought back for a second chance.

“Sure. Sure. Of course.” Once it finally registers with you what he’s said, and that he’s decided to make up a story instead of telling you the truth, your heart sinks. The evidence that Max is your soulmate is right there on his skin, but as he buttons his shirt back up you frown that he clearly isn’t taking this seriously. “You were staked but somehow came back. How did I not think of that?”

He can hear the sarcasm in your voice, seeing the way your eyes clearly display your disbelief. “Well, how else do you kill a vampire?”

The way your heart clenches and then deflates is nearly instant. It’s broken without even realizing he had the power to break it. Finally seeing your birthmark on someone else’s skin has been your literal dream — and to be teased about it makes you feel like you should have just stayed in Tennessee with Derek. “Sure.” You murmur, shaking your head in disbelief and aching sadness. “You’re a vampire. Of course.”

“I am a vampire, Queenie.” Max had never flashed his fangs casually since he’s been brought back, and it feels foreign to let them slide down. Exposing the razor-sharp incisors to you.

“Fuck!” Surprised and more than a little scared, the way you jump backward on the couch would easily be called recoiling by anyone else. But it’s more about utter confusion on your part, if you’re honest. Witches exist, yes. And ghosts. And folk magic. But vampires? They were supposed to be one of those things that was fabricated by humans.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Max’s fangs disappear the second you recoil in horror. Stepping back from you to give you more space. “I just— didn’t want you thinking I was lying.” He sighs, looking down at his shiny loafers and then glancing back up at you. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not my soulmate.”

“How…how long?” While your mind works to keep up with the information you’ve just been given, your heart aches at the way Max has reacted to your understandable shock. It’s a lot all at once and you’re reeling from overload. But evidence is evidence, and you can’t get much more concrete evidence of vampires being real than having your soulmate be one. “I— want to understand.”

Max keeps his distance, making sure that he doesn’t move. He knows that he can move quicker than you can see, or react to, but this is about making you feel safe. You haven’t run away in terror, so he’s taking that as a good sign. “When I was kicked out of Vanderbilt…the only college that would accept me was in Romania.” He tells you, snorting slightly. “You would think they wouldn’t lean into the legends, but you’d be wrong. The MBA program was run by vampires and I was— well, to graduate, you have to become one.”

“That sounds…simple.” Unexpectedly simple. In all honesty you had expected a long tale about illness or an accident and being offered the chance to pull through. Maybe it’s because of its simplicity that you’re inclined to believe it. It has none of the theatrics of good storytelling which makes it all the more likely to come from real life.

“I guess it does.” Max snorts. “My sire turned me and when I was…staked, he brought me back.” He’s surprised that you are still talking, but maybe it’s not that you don’t completely disbelieve him.

“That…seems less simple?” If you’re going to choose to believe him — which it seems like you are because you aren’t running and something in the back of your head is warming subtly but you can’t explain it for anything in the world. “Staking is supposed to be…it? That’s…in the stories, anyway?” Blowing out a breath, you sigh and trying to resettle yourself. “There are going to be a lot of questions.”

“As far as I knew, it was.” Max admits. “But he could and did bring me back. He’s a powerful vampire.”

“So…you’re…” Breathe. Remember to breathe. “You’re…not alive?” It’s almost an afterthought, the way your mind is starting to connect dots. “I guess…that explains why your hands are always kind of cold. I just figured you had bad circulation.”

“Technically.” He huffs, grinning slightly. “My heart hasn’t beat since I was changed. It won’t…until.”

“Until?” You prompt. That isn’t exactly something you just trail off on.

“There’s something that makes a vampire’s heart beat for a moment.” Max nods, as if that reinforces the statement. “A vampire’s soulmate can make their heart beat for a split second.”

To say you are incredulous would be generous, but the entire situation has you incredulous. Not just him. “I would say that I’ve never heard that before, but I’ve also only ever heard of vampires having soulmates in romance novels.”

“Well…now you have.” He wonders what you are thinking but for once, your eyes aren’t giving away what you are thinking.

“So…what is it?” You ask, shifting on the sofa a little to face him. The show and everything else have been forgotten. The only thing that matters tonight is this conversation.

“What makes our heart beat?” He asks, wondering what you would say to the answer. “A kiss.”

“As simple as that?” Years ago, you might have considered it a cheesy pickup line. Or at least cute, seasonally-themed one. But the story that Allison told you at the bonfire and the fact that Max has fangs are tied together in your mind.

“Simple as that.” He shrugs. “Or so I’ve been told. I don’t know if it’s true or not.” He bites his lip and sighs. “There’s also something else you need to know.”

“More than that you have my mark, you’re apparently a vampire, and you got revived after being staked?” More seems impossible. But considering you’re the daughter of witches living in the mansion of a mystery relative you never met who simply left you everything in her will? Sure. Let’s go for more. “What is it?”

“You know the bat that’s been visiting you?” Max shoves his hands in his pants pockets and shrugs his shoulders slightly, giving you a sheepish look.

“How do you know about that?” You know the girls from the coven haven’t mentioned it, and you haven’t told a soul. It had felt a little too silly to admit to anyone.

“Because…” he shrugs again. “It’s me.”

“It’s a bat.” Somehow this is truly the thing that you can’t wrap your head around, only associating bats with vampires because of the Dracula story — a novel. It isn’t real just like novels about witches aren’t real. The truth is always a bit different than those pages portray.

"Yeah." He nods, "a really cute bat that you call Cutie."

Your eyes widen, mouth falling open, and an instant later you’re sinking deeper into the couch in embarrassment. “That’s…how I’ve ended up in bed…” you murmur, disbelief evident in your voice. “The nights that I could swear I fall asleep on the chaise and then next morning I wake up in bed?”

"Yes." Max can see that you are curling in on yourself and he hates that. "I just— I didn't want you to be uncomfortable." He explains lamely. "I didn't – it wasn't anything, uh, touchy or anything."

It’s almost too much information, the facts at least how they have been presented to you, are working in your mind and clouding a deeply buried instinct of trust. As if the mark on your shoulder that binds the two of you together has reached into your consciousness and turned your mind on to all many of extra possibilities. Composing yourself enough to pick up the remote and turn off the tv, you blow out a puff of air like you’re somehow knocking the dust out of your mind. “I’ve…been reading to you almost every night. The bonfire at Mabon…the night last week when I just made up stories?” Every time you wake up in bed instead of in your chair. Every time he’s snuggled up to you in bat form and trilled happily, he understood every word you said to him. “That means…you saw my birthmark two days ago.”

He nods slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he tries to figure out what the fuck you are thinking. How you are coping with this. "I did." He snorts. "Damn near fell out of the air."

“This is…kind of insane.” Yet, somehow, you don’t actually think he’s lying. That is the strangest part of all.

He decides that the best way to prove this is to prove it. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and winks at you. There's no poof of smoke, no sound. One minute Max the human is standing there, and the next, Max the bat is flapping his wings in the air in front of you.

“Oh my god!” It happens so fast that you barely have time to react, but you cover your mouth with both hands and nearly shriek when your little bat friend is hovering in front of you as clear as day where Max was just standing. “Ohhh gods…it’s…it’s been you this whole time?” You manage to sound insistent and authoritative but only just.

He squeaks and then finds that he would rather talk to you as a human, so in the blink of an eye, Max is standing in front of you again. Rolling his shoulders slightly to work out the feeling of wings as he hums. "It's been me."

“Does anyone else know?” This time when you shift on the couch it’s to make room for him. If witches are real, and folk magic is real, and apparently vampires are too? Then you have questions.

"That I'm a bat? Or that I'm your soulmate?" He asks, unsure of which conversation you want to have.

“Both?” He seems to want to talk about them one at a time, though, so you swallow down your nerves and try to go about this in a rational way. “Vampire first. Soulmate second.”

"Um...." he shrugs, "Everyone?" He tells you. "I've not exactly hidden what I am. As far as the soulmate thing? No one but my sire."

“Everyone knows?” You just can’t believe that, along with everything else. It’s too out there. “Eddie knows? Mrs. Taylor knows?”

Max doesn't know if he had wanted him to tell you everything, but he's not going to lie. "They do." He nods. "Of course they know."

Suddenly the raw beef appetizers and blue rare steaks come back into your mind and you could just slap yourself for not seeing clues earlier. Although, technically? No one could blame you for not assuming your roommate is a vampire. “So you can eat regular food, then? You don’t only…drink blood?”

"I can eat regular food, but I prefer blood." Max grimaces. "Most food, like that orange cake thing the other week, tastes almost rancid. But it’s more palatable if its raw. Or has blood in it."

“Okay…” you nod slightly and are slightly mollified when he sits down beside you on the couch again. “I’m sorry if I’m asking a lot of questions, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

"You can ask me anything." He promises, settling out amongst the cushions and looking at you expectantly. "Hit me with your best shots."

“So…” Of all the three thousand questions in your mind, you try to pick just one to start with and end up floundering until you can pull in the thread of a thought. “You don’t speak to your family anymore but Eddie said you were adopted brothers. Does that…mean he’s a vampire, too?”

"Bingo." Max knew you were smart, that you are so much smarter than you think that you are. "We are 'brothers' because we were turned by the same vampire. But actually, Eddie is older than I am. He was turned in the nineties."

“So it’s just…non-biological family? Like your sire is your new father?” There’s something instinctively human about that, but you won’t say so. Not when you’re trying to get your facts straight.

"Kind of." He nods. "Eddie was, is more human than vampire at times. He was here before I arrived. And our sire thought he could teach me a few things. Like how to be a better human I guess."

“He eats more than you.” It was something that you had noticed and just filled away under likely useless knowledge, but Max never eats much at dinner unless it’s on the raw side and never shares the snacks he brings you. At most he’ll have a drink. A drink. You glance at his mug now and then back at him. “Is that blood?” You ask, extremely tentatively, looking back at the mug again. It’s a black mug with a lid and dark liquid inside so it’s impossible to tell what’s in it.

"Yes." He admits quickly. "Normally we would have ‘wine’ with dinner," he even uses air quotes. "So I would just be a person who preferred a dark cab. But I have to admit that I like those double walled tumblers. Keeps it warmer longer."

“That…” You groan, annoyed with yourself for having gotten in the way of things you didn’t understand. “That’s why you got upset that Mrs. Taylor hasn’t been serving wine with dinner. Not because you wanted alcohol. I’m so sorry.”

"Don't worry about that." Max shrugs slightly. "I understand why you don't like alcohol." He clenches his fist at the thought of someone hurting you in a drunken rage. Even if it was to make you cry. "It's not like you knew that the wine was non-alcoholic."

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” you promise him immediately, wanting to set things right. “It’s not fair that I get to eat whenever or wherever I want to and you can’t.”

"Don't." Max shakes his head, almost reaching out to touch you, but he's afraid you will recoil. "It's been okay with just having it in mugs or tumblers." He doesn't want you uncomfortable. It's a strange thing for him, considering his past, but Max wants to make sure that your comfort is the primary priority. "I won't die eating a rare steak."

“Max…” When he takes his hand back you instinctively feel yourself reaching forward, trying to close that gap for the two of you. Who knows if it’s more for him or more for you. “I may not…really understand this, but I do understand that even if you never want to be more than platonic soulmates, we’re still connected. And we live together. So some adjustments are going to have to get made if we’re both going to be comfortable.”

"I'm not—" He shakes his head. "I want you to be comfortable." He murmurs quietly. "I'm not a 'platonic' kind of man, right? But you— you've obviously been through a lot and despite some thinking I'm a douchebag, I'm not the type to fucking push myself on someone. Especially a woman I'm supposed to love and protect." He almost feels like he's trying to convince his parents that he didn't cheat, begging them to believe him. Instead, this time he's begging you to believe that he's not the type of man, vampire to ever push you for more than you wanted to give him.

“I want you to be comfortable.” Which puts you at an odd sort of stand still, if you’re honest, but that’s okay. At least, it’s a hell of a lot better than what you’ve had before. “I don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you. Hell, I don’t even know what I’d do if you said you wanted a relationship. It’s— I don’t expect you to say that, obviously, and I— I don’t know. Considering what I just got out of, I’m probably a terrible person to even think of like that.”

"Why?" Max frowns and shakes his head. "This asshole you were with obviously mistreated you. Abused you. You were probably emotionally detached from the relationship for months, maybe years before it ended." He had listened during the psychology classes he had to take. He had just pretended that it was just to get inside clients and competitors’ heads, to get an edge in business, but he had always been curious about the human condition. There were plenty of 'self help' books he had read during those sleepless hours. Theres only so many hours you can surf porn. "You are—" he huffs. "You're beautiful and kind. Caring. You deserve to be happy."

“Emotionally detached doesn’t mean I wasn’t still there every day. Dealing with the anger and the threats and whatever else he feels like dishing out that day. It’s just…” You want so badly to take his hand, but fear is a very real thing for you in this moment. Being unsure and afraid means your fingertips barely bump his before you’re worried about overstepping. “You shouldn’t have to deal with a partner who could crack or break down at any time. And at this point my list of triggers is a mile long. I’m broken.” And that fact has you near tears just from the simple fact of it, but you have to do your best to blink them away. “You deserve so much better than that.”

"You aren't broken." Max hisses, trying very hard to control his anger. It wouldn’t be directed at you, but at the bastard that had convinced you that you were somehow lacking because he had been. "No one broken would have the strength to travel to a new place and start their life over." He growls. "No one broken would accept the strange circumstances they are faced with. You damn sure wouldn't be as kind and giving as you are. If you're broken, you can't possibly dance the way that you do. You couldn't."

“I feel broken, then.” Sniffling quietly, you wipe away an escaped tear with the hand that isn’t near his. “And I have no idea how long it will take me to not feel that way.”

Max can't help but reach in, hating how you are crying because of him. His fingers brushing yours and he's happy that you don't pull away in fear as he wipes the tear away. "I'm a vampire, sweetheart." He reminds you with a quiet chuckle. "I've got eternity if that's what it takes."

It’s cheesy and sweet, and you crack a smile when his cold hand touches your warm skin. “Would you really do that?”

“What else do I have to do?” Max asks softly, grinning back at you. “I don’t—I was always wondering about my soulmate. I have been drawn to you.”

"I kind of...brushed it off in the beginning," you admit with a note of guilt in your voice. "Tried to tell myself if it's just that you're my type and I shouldn't think that you're cute because you're my roommate. But...this sort of changes things."

“Don’t worry about what you did or what you might do.” Max protests. “I’m not going to yell at you. Mrs. Taylor would tear me apart.”

"She might have a little trouble with that." A small chuckle escapes you, unable to believe the reality of the situation. But Max's cool hand in yours is very real proof. "With you being a vampire and all."

"Not as much trouble as you might think." After all, the housekeeper is a much older vampire than he is. He doesn't even know how long she had been working for him and Cookie.

“No!” The implication of that and the amused smile on his face has you sitting up in surprise. “Mrs. Taylor, too? Is everyone here a vampire and I was just completely oblivious?”

“We try very hard to not make it obvious.” Max excuses your oversight easily. “But you are the only person with a pulse on this estate.”

“I—” Somehow this time it’s amusing that you didn’t know instead of concerning, and you huff out a laugh. “Cookie knew, right? She had to have known.”

“Of course she knew.” Max snorts. “Hard to not know when her soulmate was also a vampire.”

You have never been so acutely aware of your breath as you are when you’re blowing out a sigh in front of a man you now know to be a vampire and you shake your head in that age-old signal of disbelief. “The story Alli told me was true, then? About the witch and her vampire soulmate and all that…gods I feel like such an idiot.”

“It’s true.” He nods, smiling slightly. “Cookie was a powerful witch. And her soulmate is my sire.” It seems like an important piece of information for you to have.

“This just gives me so many more questions.” You admit, laughing quietly. “But I guess…having a vampire for a soulmate runs in the family.”

“I guess.” He doesn’t know why he had wanted you to have a vampire soulmate, but that is a question you can ask him. “I know it’s a lot.”

"It is." And you won't pretend otherwise. That would be worse than disingenuous, given that this is your soulmate and these are the people around you. This is your entire life now. And honestly? You don't want to change it. Which is a whole other issue you will grapple with privately – the fact that some of the nicest people you've ever met are vampires seems to go against every story about the creatures that has ever been told. "But I have my baggage and you have yours. It's...it's honestly not nearly as bad as how some other people have it. Or even anywhere near as bad as my last relationship."

“Do you want me to kill him?” Max asks. “I normally don’t waste food, but it seems like he would taste disgusting.”

The question is startling but not necessarily out of bounds, but you shake your head without even giving it consideration. “I’ll be happier if I can just forget he ever existed,” you tell Max honestly.

“Okay, but you let me know if you change your mind.” He insists.

“I’m not going to ask you to kill someone.” The idea is too much to even fathom and you shake your head again. “Is that…do I want to ask how you all get your blood?”

“Blood bank.” Max smirks. “Or donors. Willing donors.” He adds. “We don’t really have to skulk in shadows and trick people into giving us their blood in today’s society.

“That’s reassuring.” It’s downright relieving, actually, because with your hand in his you don’t really want to think about how he’s had to survive.

He doesn’t mention that he used to play with his food before. The new lease on life or immortality he had been given had come with a ‘sanctity of life’ outlook. He didn’t think you would be okay with him as your soulmate if he kept eating people anyway. “Absolutely.” He gives you an innocent grin.

"This has been an...enlightening night. To say the least." All of the information weighs on you and on your mind, making you feel heavy but in a very different way than the heaviness would feel when someone like Derek used to be upset with you. It's different. Like you know this time it will all settle.

“I’m sorry that your show has been ruined.” Max glances at the clock and realizes that the entire show has ended.

"You're more important than a tv show." There isn't a single note of hesitation in your voice and you give his hand a small squeeze. "And that will always be true. I always said that if I ever met my soulmate that they would be my first priority in everything. I'm standing by that."

It’s been a long time, maybe even never, when someone put Max above anything else. It’s oddly sweet and he looks down at your hand in his. “I—okay.” He nods quietly. “What else do you want to know?”

"Is there anything you want me to know? Or anything you want to know about me?" He looks so surprised that you would make him a priority that you have to wonder if his parents weren't the first people to not have faith in him. Which is pretty heartbreaking, and unfortunately you know exactly how it feels.

He frowns, hating the next part, so he huffs slightly. “Being that I’m—well, dead technically, if we ever got to the point of…intimacy…” He breaks off and looks down at your hands again. “I can’t give you kids.”

That...is a very good point. And one you hadn't thought of. But since it seems to upset him you're not going to harp on it. Not even a little bit. "Well, I think you know I like pets a whole lot," you joke, laughing softly. No one knows that better about you right now than he does. "When we get to that point, it will all be fine."

He gauges your eyes, wanting to see if you are just telling him what he wants to hear and when he finds that you are serious, he chuckles. “Okay.” He nods. “I’ll get you a real pet bat then.”

"I looked it up," you can't help but grin, a slightly guilty laugh coming out of you. "They're kind of illegal to have, and you can get rabies from petting them. You were just...too cute to resist."

“Well, I don’t have rabies.” He snorts and pretends to look offended. “So I’ll change into a bat when you’re missing Cutie.”

"Is it cheesy to say you're cuter like this?" It feels cheesy, and it definitely feels presumptuous to say, but it's out of your mouth now and there's nothing you can do about it.

“Yeah?” Max preens, smugly grinning like he’s just struck the winning lottery ticket. “It’s not cheesy at all, sweetheart.”

"The suits are nice, too," you mumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks at both the admittance and his obvious glee hearing it.

“They are nice.” He admits, scooting a bare inch closer to you. “Tailored is the way to go. Better quality than off the rack stuff.”

"I'll have to trust you on that." From warm to burning, your cheeks get hotter instantly, and you duck your eyes away for a second to bite back an unaccustomed smile. "You have much better fashion sense than me."

“Doubtful.” He tuts, shaking his head. “I saw your competition outfits and you can’t tell me you didn’t design them.”

“I learned a little bit from my mother,” you admit with a shrug. It won’t do any good to tell him that Derek had you on strict allowance after always making you use your paycheck for bills and groceries and his beer. The few new things you’ve bought in Newport are the first clothes you’ve had not from a church basement in years. “But I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten it all now.”

"Then it will be fun remembering it all." Max reasons, making it sound simple. He has a good idea from your reaction why you are insisting that you don't have fashion sense, but you also need to remember that you have more money that you could possibly spend in one shopping spree.

“I trust you to pick.” The submission is so easy, so ingrained, that you don’t even think about it. Which speaks volumes about the kind of dictation you’ve been living under. “Whatever you want me to wear is fine.”

"What if we picked together?" He's sure that you have natural style, but you've been so stifled, it's almost natural to repress it. He wants you to start realizing that you can do whatever you want.

“Is that something you would want to do?” You would never go so far as to consider it a date, but spending more time with him after this newfound revelation has an undeniable appeal. You’ve liked Max almost since the beginning. This is an extraordinary next step to take.

"It's not like I would hate it." Max doesn't want you to feel obligated, but he gives a small shrug. "I know the coven has been showing you around, but maybe they haven't taken you everywhere."

"We certainly haven't been clothes shopping." Somehow you can't imagine Max even in a regular mall, but shopping with him sounds like it might be all the more fun for it. A unique experience. "I..." you chuckle softly. "I have nothing but free time these days."

He smirks slightly, finding it ironic that you have the life of leisure while he had work. He was the one that was immortal. "That's not a bad thing, Queenie."

"I'm still getting used to it." Though you highly doubt that you ever truly will, if it will make him less embarrassed to be seen with him you will definitely work harder on your wardrobe.

"Nothing wrong with that." He chuckles. "I can imagine it's hard to go from worrying about your hours, your pay, to not having to anymore."

"I'm honestly kind of surprised to hear that you still work as hard as you do," you admit. "In the stories, vampires are always fabulously wealthy."

"I'm still a baby vamp." Max snorts, shrugging slightly. "Those vampires are also hundreds of years old. So I've still got to create that wealth."

"Ah." Nodding in understanding, you can't help but smile that he's still holding your hand. "Starting from the ground up. Got it."

He snorts and nods. "Exactly. But don't worry, I'm pretty damn good in a board room. Making deals and money."

"I fully believe that you could sell ice to a Norwegian." From what you've seen, he has the confidence and swagger to do just about whatever he wants.

Your outrageous comment makes him laugh, completely charmed by the faith that you have in him when you haven't even seen him close a deal. "I should use that." He admits, rubbing your warm skin with his thumb.

"If anybody ever remarks that you have cold skin after a handshake, you just tell them it's how your soulmate teases you about it." Gods you just ache when he laughs, and you feel like you might explode with smiling.

Max smirks slightly and reaches into his pocket with his free hand. Pulling out a warmer packet. "I try to make sure that I warm my hands up right before I need to shake hands." He admits bashfully.

"Clever." It's something you never would have thought of in a million years and the fact that he's utilizing it so effectively proves your point that he must be extremely good at what he does.

"A good handshake can make or break a deal." Max admits, having learned that when a pharmaceutical exec had told him that he couldn't trust a man with poor circulation. It had cost him a fifteen-million-dollar contract. "I really like warm places." He hums. "Like right there." He reaches up and touches your clavicle where he had snuggled in as Cutie. "And I can hear your heartbeat."

"Is it loud?" You blurt out the question before you can stop yourself, but it's one of those things that when you read fantasy books you had always wondered.

"When I'm close by, it seems like that's all I can hear. But it's gentle." His fingers brush your skin gently, caressing you. "I like when you sleep. It slows down, like your breathing. You are a very peaceful sleeper."

"I very rarely have vivid dreams." The fact that he's listened to you sleeping seems so utterly romantic that it steals your breath for a long moment. "They only started up again maybe a week ago. But they're not bad. Just kind of...nostalgic."

"What do you dream about?" He asks curiously. Wanting to know what you think about when you are lost in your dreams. He hopes they are sweet, kind. A reassurance that you deserve only the good things in life.

"Um..." Suddenly terrified that you shouldn't have said anything, you try to swallow that impulsive fear and be open with him. Since he's been so open with you tonight, he deserves that. "I had an imaginary friend...when I was a kid. And I've started dreaming about him again. But...also...sometimes...you."

His brow raises, surprised that you dream about him. But he's intrigued by your admission of an imaginary friend. "What was your friend like?" He asks, smiling slightly at the thought of a little girl with her friend, playing by herself in the room.

"He's very kind. And encouraging. And gave oddly good advice for being the figment of a child's imagination." Which makes you smile in turn, and you lean in to Max's side slightly. He feels safer than almost anywhere else in the world right now. "With curly black hair and a big smile and I always imagined that he gave the best hugs in the world."

Curly black hair. Max stares at you in shock. He had been visiting you when you were a little girl. That had to be what it was. He had convinced you that it was dreams. Probably coming at night so it would be more plausible. "You didn't hug him?"

"Invisible friend, Max." You laugh softly. "I imagined that I did a hundred thousand times. But it's not like he ever existed anywhere other than my mind."

"What would this friend. talk to you about?" He asks.

"Everything I guess." Sinking a little closer in to Max's side, you tilt your head slightly like you're trying to let a memory drip out. "School. Dance classes. My parents and my friends. I guess I must have used it like a sounding board. Working out all my little kid problems by talking to Yayo and then playing tea party with him afterward once everything was better."

"Yayo?" Max tilts his head. "Did you name him that or did he tell you to call him that?"

"Who knows," you shrug slightly. The memory is nostalgic enough that you don't notice how he reacts to hearing the name. "I was a little kid the first time I remember him, so I must have made it up somehow."

"Cute." He smirks slightly, imagining him coming into your dreams and spending time with you. He needs to find out why you are so important.

“Everybody has imaginary friends, right?” It had always just seemed like such a natural thing to you. Sure it was unusual that your made up friend was a grown ass man, but it’s not like it was a manifestation of abuse or anything. Yayo had always been your biggest fan and biggest supporter. Whether it was soothing your childhood fears, getting excited with you to start dance classes, or just listening to you babble about your day as kid are want to do. “Mine just wore fancy clothes and had a Spanish accent. Who knows? I must have seen an Antonio Banderas movie as a little kid and made up a character with the voice or something.”

“I am sure that your Yayo was a good thing for you.” Max frowns slightly, wondering why he had skulked in shadow and come to you in the night. “It sounds like he was.”

“Imaginary friends fill a gap.” You shrug your shoulders a little, leaning against him. “I’m sure you had one, too. Most kids do.”

“I didn’t.” Max admits. “But that’s because I was normally trying to surround myself with people. To pretend I was better than I was.”

“Better than you are?” Brows furrowing immediately, you tilt your head back to look at him and frown. “But you’re fantastic.”

“Not really.” Max snorts. “If I were better, my parents wouldn’t have abandoned me. I wouldn’t have needed my sire to bring me back.”

“The person you’ve been with me…the person I’ve gotten to know?” You shrug your shoulders again, wondering if a compliment from you is worth anything at all. “I think he’s pretty fantastic. Maybe you were just finding yourself.”

Your words are probably some of the most soothing he’s ever heard and he bites his lip. “I really want to be a bat right now so you will scratch my head.” He admits with a huffing laugh.

“C’mere.” You can’t help but grin, and you cradle his head against your shoulder with one hand before starting to scratch, gently and soothingly, over his short-cropped hair and scalp. “Does it feel as good when you’re like this?”

“Oh shit.” Max’s eyes close and he leans into your touch. “How— it’s so good. This is why dogs love people. It has to be.”

Your blunted fingernails take over his scalp and you shift so he can cuddle closer if he wants to. “But they don’t love vampires?” Somewhere in your memory you remember him remarking that dogs were not terribly big fans of him.

“Nah.” He grumbles slightly. “Knows we are a more dangerous predator.”

Humming in understanding as your nails find a rhythm gently running along his hairline, you revel in the closeness without expectation. Without demand. Without rules. Just simple intimacy without conditions.

How he ended up with his head in your lap, he couldn’t tell you, but it’s the most relaxed he’s ever been. “This is nice.”

“You don’t have to be a bat to get scritches and cuddles,” you promise him with a quiet giggle.

“Yeah?” He grins up at you. “Might have been my favorite part of the day. Your reading voice is really nice.”

“I can still read to you.” The idea that he actually enjoys it makes your cheeks heat up again, and you rub his shoulder with your other hand. “And you don’t have to carry me to bed anymore. Though it was very sweet of you.”

“I liked doing it.” He pouts slightly. “I’m either a wicked vampire carrying you off, or a valiant hero saving a damsel in distress.” He grins. “You pick which one I imagine.”

“I guess it will depend on my mood.” It’s intimidating, and a little embarrassing, realizing that he’s heard every time your heart has skipped a beat around him. But at least this time when it happens, he’s smiling right at you. “You can…keep doing it if you really want to.” It’s utterly romantic, as far as you’re concerned, but you didn’t want him to feel that he had to.

“You sleep, you should be comfortable.” He doesn’t mention that he had wished he could lay down beside you. That would be too far, at least as a human.

“Well, we’ll have to find a new way to curl up.” The way you are now is so nice. So calm. And deeply domestic, which you would never point out. “You won’t exactly fit on my shoulder for me to read to you like this, and that chaise is not built for two.”

Max smirks, resisting the urge to tell you that it could be, as long as you are laying on him. Instead, he hums, surprised you want to give up your furry little friend.

“If you want.” It will always be up to him. You’ll never push or impose. But you want him to know that — as small as your steps forward might be — you’re willing to take them.

“I want.” He closes his eyes and burrows his head into your lap more. “I think I’d scare you with what I want, Queenie.”

“I’m used to being scared,” you admit, fingers still raking through his short hair. “I’d rather be intimidated by something good than afraid of darkness.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid at all.” Max nearly growls, but he doesn’t want to make you nervous. “I’d rather be staked again than hurt you. Or let someone else hurt you. Just think of me as your own, personal guard bat.”

“Life is scary.” Looking down into his face, there is something there that you can’t identify, but it’s less so than in the beginning. There are fewer secrets now. Fewer. Not none. But you would never ask anyone to change for you, and especially not in the course of just a few hours. “And I guess…so is the afterlife. But it’s less scary with an actual partner, I think. At least, I have to think that it is. Hope that it is.”

"I can be rude, downright inconsiderate. Selfish. Maybe too much of a flirt, but I've never, ever wanted to make my soulmate cry." He admits quietly. "Always said that whoever she was would get the best of me."

“Nobody’s perfect.” Your hand stills, leaving only your thumb stroking along the shortest of the hairs on the back of his neck. “I’m certainly not. I would never expect you to be. All that matters is that we try to be the best we can for each other.”

"Why are you so sweet?" He's slightly confused by it. It's obvious you've not had an easy time, and yet you are so willing to accept this when you had just sworn off relationships. "So accepting?"

It’s confusion in his eyes, not criticism, and you frown slightly at the question. It seems fairly obvious to you, but there is more than one answer. “Part of it is just…me. And I haven’t been able to be myself in so long that I thought I had forgotten her. But I guess that’s not the case after all. But also…you’re my soulmate. If I was ever going to accept anyone, wouldn’t it be you?”

"I never thought my soulmate would accept me." It's a hard thing to admit, a sobering one. After he had been turned, he had been certain that he wouldn't be accepted. When he had refused to let him put any marks back, it had just be a silent confirmation of those deeply internal views.

“Surprise.” Sniffling back a laugh, your fingers trace his cheek and jaw in a move far bolder than you thought you could feel. That deep thread that connects soulmates truly is stronger than you ever thought. “I thought I’d lost you when all of your marks disappeared. So surprise for me, too.”

Max sighs, closing his eyes in regret. "My sire— he didn't want me to put the marks back." He explains. "Said it would cause confusion. Ordered me not to. And since I'm dead, I can't really scar anymore."

“If I got a tattoo do you think it would show up?” It’s not really something you had ever considered before, but he’s right. Wounds probably don’t affect him the same way anymore. But ink? Ink might.

"I don't know." He admits quietly. "Your birthmark is the only thing I have."

“The next time you speak to your sire, you could always ask him.” Whoever Max’s sire is, he sounds a bit like a strict father. But there’s probably a reason for that even if you don’t know what it is.

He chuckles. "If he decided to answer me, it would be in a riddle."

“Maybe I should ask him, then.” You offer him a valiant smile, like you’re offering to go into battle. “If you wanted, I mean.”

"You would do that?" His amazement is astounding, nearly making the blood in his system rise to the surface again.

"If you want me to." He seems so genuinely shocked that anyone would do something nice for him that it breaks your heart a little. After all, you know that feeling all too well. "We could pick out a design together, too."

“I- I honestly don’t know what to say.” He confesses softly. “I really don’t.”

“If you don’t like the idea, it’s okay to say so.” But from the expression on his face says otherwise, and it softens your own smile into something akin to dreamy. “But I think it would be nice.”

“No, I like it— it’s just— it’s surprising.” He tells you. “In a good way.”

"I...liked having your tattoos. Having that part of you." He lights up when he smiles and it makes your heart skip again. "Now that we know each other a little, it would be nice to have that to share."

“You never wanted tattoos?” He asks curiously, wondering why you never put a mark on him besides the odd scars that were now gone. “Or did the asshole not want any on you?”

He has hit the nail on the head, of course, and you bite your lip. "Big tattoos aren't great for competition. But...Let's just say he wasn't sad when they disappeared one day."

Max blows out a raspberry. “He sounds like a dick.” He would say more, but he doesn’t want to upset you. “I’m glad you’re here and not still around that prick.”

"I'm glad I'm here, too." Especially now. Now that you know what he is to you.

Max is quiet for a moment. Letting the seriousness of this settle and he doesn’t have a quip, or a joke about it. No snide remark comes to mind. He just feels…peaceful around you. “Do you want to dance with me tomorrow?” He asks finally.

"Yes." You don't even have to think about it. Or consult a schedule. Or second-guess. "Definitely."

“Yeah?” He grins, twisting his head to look up at you. “We do dance together really well, don’t we?”

"Not bad for a few turns around the ballroom." Dragging your fingers through his hair again, you can't help but smile, feeling warmed all the way through. Ironic considering Max is so cool to the touch. "We'll have to go for something a little more complex this time."

"Oh...are you thinking of something special for the opening dance of the ball?" He asks with a smirk. "It's supposedly tradition for the hostess to start the dancing."

"You just want to show off." Still, it sounds sweet. Like he wants to show you off, which seems entirely foreign but utterly romantic. "It might be sweet, though. We'd have to pick a good song, of course. And make up the choreography."

"Tempo should be lively, celebratory." He tells you. "Starting things off with a bang, as it were."

"An upbeat Viennese Waltz?" It seems like the thing to do, traditional but good for an ice breaker. "I don't want to do something that feels staged and showy...even if that's exactly what it is. A salsa or something like that would feel out of place."

"Especially at a Gilded Age party." Max agrees. "Plus it will almost convince people they could do it with a little practice."

"Maybe we can put flyers for the tickets up at some dance studios around town?" Not that you know of any, but there is a decent chance that he might.

"Perhaps we should invite the teachers to the ball." He offers after a moment.

"It would certain be beautiful for the dancing." You hum dreamily, imagining all of those whirling dresses in the ballroom that is now so familiar to you. "Maybe we could go to a free dancing night at each studio to give the invitation and talk it up a little? Since it's for charity and all."

"There are several dance studios in the area." He knows you will be all dreamy about it. "I'll email you the list and you can call them tomorrow. Set something up."

Alright. Looks like overcoming phone anxiety is on the schedule for tomorrow. You nod and give his shoulder a squeeze. "I guess we'll be dancing together a lot."

He sees the way you freeze for a split second before you try to push it aside. "What is it?" He asks softly, wondering if you will pretend everything is fine or if you will confide in him.

"Nothing," you insist immediately, knowing that previous to the last few weeks you would have been expected to shut away every ounce of your anxiety in order to make sure everything got done precisely the way Derek wanted. The fact that Max gives a damn how you feel about things is so strange to process. "It's—" Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes briefly but force a smile. "I'm not always very good on the phone. You know...anxiety. But I'll manage."

"How about I take a portion of the calls?" Max offers. "And if you find that you can't do it, I'll take them all."

"No, it's okay." The fear of being a burden is instant. It seizes like ice water through your veins, and even though you know logically that Max isn't the same kind of man that Derek is, you still shake your head tightly. "I can take care of it. There's no reason for you to do extra work."

“It’s not like I would mind.”

“You work all day. I don’t. I can manage it.” There is no way on earth you’re going to let this slide backward and you shake your head. You’ll make those damn phone calls yourself just so he doesn’t start to think you’re untrustworthy or — like you said you were before and he didn’t believe you — broken.

“If you’re sure.” Max doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed. “You’ve got a lot on your plate with planning this event. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“If I get overwhelmed, I’ll split the calls into two days.” You promise him, not really knowing if that will help at all but willing to give the — as they say — old college try.

“It’s okay.” Max promises you. He doesn’t want to call attention to it, but he captures your hand and brings it to his mouth. He kisses it softly. “You will be settling into your nickname of ‘Queenie’ before you know it.”

******

Sitting in the teahouse with your cell phone, a notebook, and a list of dance studios had seemed like a good plan for the afternoon. You’ve called three of the four studios on the island but the fourth seems always to be too busy to pick up their line and it has you frustrated and anxious that you can’t finish your task. At this point you feel like you’ve been twiddling your thumbs waiting for Max to get home, and you finally decide to pack up and go inside, intending to catch Mrs. Taylor before she starts making dinner for the night. She should know that you know — and that you have no intention of keeping her or Max or Eddie or anyone else from having the blood they need.

Renee had told you before about the reason for the call buttons in every room of the house. How they shouldn’t be looked at like ringing a cow bell to demand service, but as a polite way of requesting to speak with a staff member when you need something. Rather than the old-fashioned families a hundred years ago or more barging into their servants’ areas, you press the button as a polite request. Trying to keep that in mind, you choose the library as a place to sit once you reach the house, and press the button hidden in the wainscoting before settling down at the desk. Whether Mrs. Taylor or Renee answers will be up to them.

“Ms. Dolly?” Mrs. Taylor’s voice immediately comes over the intercom, like she had been hovering next to it. You don’t know that she was across the kitchen, but that’s the beauty of being able to move so fast. It’s why her and Renee can handle the housework and keep the place spotless.

“Do you have time to speak for a moment before starting dinner, Mrs. Taylor?” The little speaker box on the desk is reminiscent of the 1950s and makes you smile. It’s odd. But it works.

“Of course, Ms. Dolly, I will be right up.” In the time it would take a normal human to come upstairs, she will put together a light tray for you with the fresh apple cider that she had thought you would enjoy. You seem to like the fall theme.

It takes the housekeeper only five minutes to appear in the library doorway with a tray of assorted snacks and a large drink, and this time instead of feeling like a burden that she is serving you, you find yourself amused that she had so much time to fix the tray. Max had demonstrated his vampiric speed for you last night by zipping across the second-floor hallway so now you have a better idea of how fast your housemates can move. “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I know your time is precious.”

“It was nothing, ma’am.” She nods her head and sits down across from you when you motion her to sit. “Did you wish to discuss the menu for the party? I’ve already made several varied menus for you to choose from.” She pulls cards out of her sweater to hand to you.

“Well…yes. But I wanted to speak to you about the…general dinner menus as well.” Just because you had been trying to hype yourself up for this doesn’t mean that you had figured out how to go about it gracefully. Grace is only something you have when you dance — not really in conversation.

“Is there something you don’t like?” She looks positively horrified by the prospect and curses herself. She had been treating you like Cookie, and there’s a very real chance your palette is completely different. “If you give me an idea of what you wish to have, I will make sure to adjust accordingly.” She assures you.

"It's not that. Your cooking is wonderful. In all honesty it's high above what I'm used to and I couldn't possibly ask you to change a thing. Not for me." You shake your head profusely to dispel any worries, practically reaching out to take her hand, but you have a feeling that she would find that improper. "It's just that...I have been made aware that...Max and Eddie and...well, everyone else in the house...you all have rather a different diet than I do. And that there have been a few things hidden from me until now, which I presume was done so as not to stun or panic me."

Surprised would be a mild way to put her reaction. Mrs. Taylor’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plate and her stomach drops. “Who told you that?” She had been assured by the coven on the first visit to the manor since you have befriended them that the witches would not tell you.

"Max did, but please understand that he did it for the most noble reason possible." After talking it out with him last night, the two of you had decided that your soulmate status would be impossible to keep quiet in the house so it was probably best just to let people know. If it had taken the two of you only a few weeks, it was sure to come out quickly to everyone else. "We had a long discussion last night about some very important things. And I...I appreciate that you all did your best to make me feel comfortable here. I do feel comfortable here. But I don't want any of you to have to hide your blood anymore. That would be incredibly rude of me to ask when I am the only human in the house."

"It is not a problem." She insists, leaning in slightly. "We are used to being...more formal about things than the average vampire. Cookie had been pleased with it as well as her soulmate. He was the one that had set that formality in place. However, this is your home and what you wish will be."

"The formality is...it's sort of nice, if I'm honest. It's comforting to have an order to how things are supposed to work. But it's really fine with me if Eddie and Max just want to have blood at dinner instead of...well...food. I understand that it used to be served in wine glasses and that my dislike for drinking sort of threw a monkey wrench into that habit."

She smiles softly and tilts her head, a motherly sort of affection for you making her squeeze your hand gently. "It was not vexing to anyone save for Max and well, he likes to make a nuisance of himself at times." She confides. "I think it was that 'only child' syndrome he had."

"He likes to feel special." There's something soft and affectionate in your tone that you just can't help, but you swallow down any sort of guilt that bubbles to the surface from it. Max is your soulmate after all. And it's been weeks since you left Derek's house. There doesn't need to be any guilt whatsoever.

Her brow raises at the change in tone, pursing her lips in amusement. "I gather that the snack trays he has been putting together for you during your show has changed your mind about Max?"

"It's not—" Your cheeks burn hot and you suddenly wish you were a turtle so you could just bury yourself in your shell at the first mere hint of embarrassment. "It's more than that," you tell her quietly, acknowledging that this is surely the opportune time to tell your vampiric housekeeper the truth about what you and Max are to each other. You're just not sure how she will react. "We...discovered...last night..." You take a deep breath, suddenly very aware of that action around so many people who don't need to do it at all. "That Max and I are soulmates."

It's like the key to the riddle of why Max was brought here suddenly slides into place. Her eyes light up and even if she is surprised, she is charmed by soulmates. Her own dear Mr. Taylor is her own, so very fortunate to have found each other so many years ago and to continue to be deeply in love. "That is...spectacular." She hums, sure that he was always aware of the connection, even if he had not confided in her.

"It's very unexpected." And it has you smiling like a lunatic, but you clear your throat and try to compose yourself. "But it really has shown me that I would prefer to have fewer secrets around me from now on. I used to be utterly surrounded by them, and I don't want this next chapter of my life to be that way again."

"Understood." While there is still one secret that she must keep, Mrs. Taylor is determined to make sure you are aware of most of what happens here. She is bound by her sire to keep his secrets, and that unfortunately predates your wishes.

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Taylor." There is some reticence in her – years of having to read Derek's moods at the drop of a pin have made you sensitive to things like that – but you won't push. Just because you've asked for openness doesn't mean it is an easy thing to give, and it means nothing if it is demanded. "I have nothing but respect for you and I'm so grateful to you for helping me to feel at home here so quickly."

"This is your home." She promises. "It was always meant to be your home."

"I'm sure there must have been other relatives along the way that the house could have gone to." You can't imagine that there were no other options for an heir, but you would be lying if you said you weren't grateful for Cookie's choice.

"No." Mrs. Taylor looks down at your joined hands and smiles sadly. "Unfortunately, due to a...family issue, you were the only choice in Cookie's mind for a recipient."

"I wish I could thank her." Your mysterious and enigmatic great-aunt has changed your life entirely and you only wish you could tell her how much it has meant to you. Because of Cookie, you know your soulmate.

"I know she would have loved you." Mrs. Taylor looks a bit misty-eyed, even though vampires don't cry often. She smiles again. "But I know that she knows. Wherever she is now."

"She was very important to you." That much is obvious, and it gives you an equally unexpected reason to smile. Knowing that your great-aunt was loved so dearly is reassuring.

"She was a wonderful lady, in every sense of the word." She nods and looks down again and clears her throat. "Please look over the menu cards I've created and let me know what you are thinking?"

"Of course. I'll look them over now. Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." It's obvious that she doesn't want to continue the conversation and you respect her too much to push, so you simply nod and pick up the cards that she laid out in front of you. "Everything you make is wonderful so I'm sure the only difficulty will be choosing between delicious options."

She smiles proudly and nods. "The apple cider is fresh." She tells you. "I thought it would pair nicely with the pumpkin scones that I had experimented with."

"You very quickly nailed down my weakness for fall flavours." There are crunchy sugar crystals on top of the scones and something that smells suspiciously like honey butter in the ramekin sitting alongside the small plate and full mug.

“It seemed like the cozy comforts would be to your liking.” Mrs. Taylor admits with a smile. “I enjoy having a human in the house.” She admits. “Vampires can eat, but normal food does not taste as appetizing to us as it does to humans, and I enjoy cooking.”

“I am very grateful for that, and for you.” A small smile cracks your face, as uncharacteristic as that may seem for you sometimes. “And I am more than happy to eat anything you feel like cooking. I’m pretty abysmal at it myself.”

“That is no concern.” She waves off your comment about yourself. “I am here to make sure you eat well.”

“Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?” Still working through all the questions you have about the circumstances and about your distant relative, there is really only one more you wanted to ask for now.

“Anything.” Mrs. Taylor was halfway out of her seat, but she sits back down and looks at you expectantly.

“I was wondering…how long you had worked for Cookie? The real answer. Allison told me the story about her soulmate prolonging her life and I didn’t believe her then. But I do now…so I wondered. That’s all.”

Mrs. Taylor smiles, the twist of her lips slightly melancholic. “Two hundred and eighty-seven years.” She admits. “Her soulmate brought me to care for her right after they found each other.”

A split second of quick math has your jaw on the ground, and you press one hand to your heart instinctively. “That…she…1736? And they met right here where the house is built?”

“Back when it was the colonies.” She nods, chuckling quietly.

“Gods…” Exhaling a shaky breath, you nod, trying to wrap your head around this extraordinary piece of information. “She must have had a remarkable life.”

“When I tell you we have an extensive collection of Cookie’s things, her clothes, I mean extensive.” She’s proud of that, because it had been her idea to preserve it. It had been meant for someone else, but now, it’s yours.

The endless possibilities flow out in front of you in every direction but you wrap your hands around the large mug of cider and smile, nostalgic already for a past you can’t possibly remember. “I hope one day you might feel open to sharing some of her stories with me. And yours, as well.”

“Since you are aware of our nature and feel no concern, I have no issue sharing.” She pauses for a moment and then decides to share a vital piece of information. “We did not start the formality with the blood until Cookie had decided to no longer prolong her life.” She admits, folding her hands in her lap. “Then it was a measure of respect to make it seem like we were drinking wine.”

“That seems very respectful.” This household is nothing if not respectful. You know that. “It doesn’t need to be hidden anymore. I know you were…being respectful of me in different ways. But besides the initial shock? It seems…well, I feel a bit silly for knowing that magic is real my whole life and not even entertaining the ideas that vampires could be, too.”

“Some things are viewed as too fantastical. Like werewolves.” She hums as she stands. “I will have dinner ready at seven.” She promises before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The immortal housekeeper is gone before you can open your mouth again, and you slump backward in your chair with her menus in front of you and a furrow between your eyebrows. Now you can’t help but wonder if werewolves are real, too…

______

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[hsgucci94]

Heartbroken

Summary: Harry doesn’t want his lifestyle to affect Y/N so he only has one card left under his sleeve, and it involves breaking up.

Part 3 of His weakness, a mafia!harry short story.

Read previous parts:

Part 1 | Part 2

by no means I’m trying to romanticise this lifestyle, it’s pure fiction x

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“You better not be trying to get rid of me right now,” Y/N joked, but when she didn’t get the response she was looking for out of him, she frowned, moving her hands away from his face and using them to hug her torso instead. As if she could protect herself from whatever was coming next.

His countenance stayed as stern as it was when speaking his last two sentences, and she was starting to think he actually meant them.

“Harry-"

"Tell me you haven't thought about how different your life would be if I wasn’t in it," he cut her off. "Tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind to leave me behind and get away from all this shit, from all my shit," he moved one of his hands up to her cheek and caressed it slowly. "Tell me, baby, I won't get angry at you. I could never. You had a lot of free time to think while recovering, I bet you thought about us, and how I won't get you nowhere good."

She stressed her frown, taking in everything he had just said to her. Why would she have thought about any of that? Wasn’t he listening when she told him a moment ago how grateful she was for everything he had done for her these past weeks?

“Are you breaking up with me?” Her voice cracked, “‘S that why you’ve been so good to me? To soften the blow?”

“No,” he hastened to add, “None of that, sweetheart.” He let out a sigh and and closed his eyes afterwards.

“I don't get it then,” she harshly replied, pissed at him, herself and the goddamned conversation they were having out of nowhere, “One minute you tell me you can't live without me and the next you’re encouraging me to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave me. But I don’t want you to stay if you’re not sure either.”

“Sure about what, Harry?” She was exasperated.

“Sure about us, baby,” he spoke in a soft tone still.

“I am sure, are you? Because I get the feeling it’s you who doesn’t want me around anymore.”

“Y/N…”

“No, Harry.” She gulped, inhaling through her nose a few times before getting up from his lap and turning her back to him, too overwhelmed, “I’ll go sleep in the guest room. Good night.” Her voice muffled.

The moment Y/N closed the door behind her, Harry put his hands on his head, pulling at his hair in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, infuriated with himself for being like that, so dumb and insecure when it came to her.

All his brilliant qualities, those that turned him into a witty and elusive criminal, numbed whenever she was involved.

He would have put up a fight for her to sleep next to him regardless of his stupidity hadn’t he known her well enough to understand she needed some time on her own after he practically doubted the love she had for him.

He knew her feelings were genuine, as sincere as his were for her, but that was the main issue: he was scared. He didn’t know how to move forward from there. He had never before been in a relationship as serious as that one; he had never cared for anyone as much as he did for her, but he knew that no matter how good she was for him, he would only end up burying her up in his misery one way or another. The night Y/N was attacked kept on playing on his mind whenever it got the chance, making him shudder in fear just by thinking how much worse it all could have turned out.

Instead of some pretty bad looking wounds and a couple of broken ribs, it could have been her death body laid on the dark pavement for him to find it the following day.

That illusion alone gave him chills.

Everyone knew the six-feet tall and dark-haired British man didn’t fear anything, except losing her for good. She now had the chance to get away from him and move on, he was leading her the way out of all his bullshit. As much as it would pain Harry to let her go, a part of him wanted her to leave him and don’t look back. The other, however, was just too selfish to let any other man have such a diamond in the rough. Because that was what she had become. His most precious relic.

So he was conflicted with himself wether it was best to keep her or let her go.

Some time later he walked to the bathroom, where he picked up on his previous activity and brushed his teeth. Then he stripped off his clothes and walked to the bed. He tossed the duvet open and slid on his side, sighing heavily when he felt the cold and emptiness of a solitary body surrounding him. The bed that had always been cozy and warm enough for him, now felt harsh and uncomfortable without her body pressed to his.

He switched off the lights of the room and only kept on the lamp on his nightstand, which set the room in a much night-like scene. But even though he was supposed to close his eyes and get some sleep, his mind wouldn’t give him a rest. He could only think about her, about how hurt she felt when he spoke, and only prayed she hadn’t started crying as soon as she left his sight. The simple thought of her tears running down her flushed cheeks broke his heart.

He clenched his jaw, cursing himself.

His eyes wandered around the bedroom, and soon ended up on what had now became her nightstand. That piece of furniture had no special use before she came into his life. Now it was the drawer she used the most. It was where she kept all her valuables, such as her wallet or glasses cases, anything she couldn’t afford to buy a second time until it got broken or unusable. She also liked to keep there her current read and the medication she was taking for her treatment.

Her medication.

As soon as realisation hit him, Harry got up and walked to his bathroom, where he filled a glass of water and went back to the room. He opened the drawer and took out the small plastic container with the remaining pills in it before heading to where she was sleeping.

Even though Y/N liked to roll her eyes at him and tease him about how he never listened to her whenever he forgot some minor details about something she had previously mentioned, he did. He did listen to her. He might not always remember what she said, but he always tried to pay attention. So even if Y/N had told him a couple of hours before that she was feeling much better and didn’t need to take her medication as often, he didn’t want her to wake up in the middle of the night in pain and not have it near.

Being as cautious as possible, he entered the room where she was peacefully resting. Her features were relaxed and her lips slightly parted, and he couldn’t help but smile at such beautiful view.

He crossed the room in silence and left her pills on the nightstand next to her, before turning around to leave. He would have swore he had been absolutely discreet, but his sneaky steps and calculated movements were not enough to ovoid waking her up.

Y/N’s eyes opened and widened as soon as she noticed a big dark shadow moving around in the room. She was way too sleepy to distinguish who it was, so her first instinct was to scream.

Someone had entered the house and was there to hurt her once again.

She quickly got out of the bed, ready to grab the doorknob and run for her life, but two strong arms grabbed her.

“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s me, it’s just me. I’m here, I’m right here,” Harry spoke in a rush, pulling her to his chest. Her screams faded the moment she felt his skin against her, his arms wrapping around her back, securing her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Y/N’s hands gripped his biceps anxiously, inhaling and exhaling a few times trying to get her breathing back to normal. “Shit,” she mumbled, her heart still beating hard against her chest while it echoed through her ears, “Shit, Harry.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said again, soothing her with small strokes on her back.

He pitched his lips in a thin line afterwards, processing what got her so terrified so suddenly. No one, and he meant no one, would get the chance to touch her after that night. He could promise her that, and wouldn’t get tired of assuring her so over and over again. He knew she was still scared of people showing up out of the blue to attack her, but he made her a promise to keep her safe above anything, and he was a man of his word. “I increased surveillance on this house and I have eyes on you at all times. You know that, right?” His words were stern, but his tone warm and calming.

“I know,” she mumbled, closing her eyes shut as if by doing so she could forget the fear she had previously experienced when, for a moment, she really thought they came back to hurt her.

She knew such thoughts were just her mind playing tricks on her because Harry had already got rid of those who assaulted her. She found about it when she mistakenly read one of his text messages a few weeks back. But still, she knew there were tons of bad guys out there ready to get a grip on her just to try get to him.

He was a mafia leader, after all.

It was inevitable.

“Y/N, look at me,” Harry caught her attention a few seconds later. She didn’t break her hold on him nor signalled she had heard him. “I need you to look at me.”

Part 4 coming soon

Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x

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[azures-bazar]

Morgan, you fool

(yes I wanted to give this a try)

Please excuse my mistakes, English is not my first language (French feller here)

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2.1k

Short summary : Arthur Morgan is completely drunk at camp and everyone is pissed by his attitude, so you're actually called to take care of him.

A/note : Arthur's tent has flaps for more privacy !

Tags : fluff, cuteness, drunkenness, Arthur's puppy eyes, chapter 2, Arthur is SOFT, trust issues, hugs

"Y/N !"

Ms. Grimshaw’s voice sounded behind you, you couldn’t hide anywhere. Almost everyone was asleep, but not you. You loved spending time smoking near the cliff of Horseshoe Overlook’s hideout, gazing at the stars when the moon was not shining. You had been rescued by the Van Der Linde gang over a few years ago, and Ms. Grimshaw calling your name had always triggered your sudden desire to hide in a tree and never get down.

There was no way out of her call, only falling forward... and you certainly did not want to die. At least, not yet. You turned back, noticing that Ms. Grimshaw was waiting for you, hands on her hips, standing near Arthur. You noted how drunk he was, he was barely able to stand on his feet and was singing something in another language but English. He had been on a night out with John, you almost did not bother when you saw Marston coming back alone. Arthur had just arrived. And he was singing a song in Spanish with a broken voice, loudly enough to wake the whole state up.

"Could you take care of Arthur ?" Ms. Grimshaw asked you. "He’s drunk like a skunk and is too noisy."

"What ?" you shrugged. "Why me ?"

"Cause you’re the only one awake who's not on guard duty, Y/N ! "

You walked closer to Arthur who nearly fell on the ground as he noticed you were about to drag him to his tent. You had no time to question anything, Ms. Grimshaw had already vanished somewhere, leaving you alone with a drunk Arthur who could not stop singing la Calandria. Javier might have taught him that song.

"Ay Dios, no ay remedio, ay Dios, no ay Piedad !" Arthur shouted

"Shh…" you whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "It’s late !"

"Me robas el reposo !"

"Arthur, please."

"Y adiós tranquilidad !"

You chuckled, listening to his sudden high voice, his laugh as soon as he forgot about the lyrics, speaking in a rather strange mixture between Spanish and a very broken German. He clung onto your shoulder, singing continuously until breaking his voice even more. You had never seen him so joyful, so happy to be alive. He trusted you enough to be himself around you, enjoying telling you about his discoveries, showing you his most personal drawings of you while blushing, believing you would hate every single one of them. However, you would often compliment his style, you adored his drawings. But what you loved the most was the smile he rewarded you with whenever you would say how beautiful is art was.

While you dragged him to his tent, you suddenly realised how short you were, and how heavy Arthur was. He was showing some resistance, tripping on nothing, slurring a little before moving forward, still trying to keep you away from his tent. He did not want to stop singing, he wanted to dance with you. All night long, if he could. However, his legs would probably not hold him long enough, his overall state would lead him to fall on the ground and watch the sky for minutes before passing out.

"Aaahaaah !" he shouted. "FOUND YA, Y/N !"

The journey between the Scout Campfire and Arthur’s tent felt endless, since Arthur would, at times, fall on his knees, dragging you to the ground. You would squat down and put him back on his feet, up until reaching his cot on which you gently pushed him, closing flaps behind you while lightening a nearby candle. Arthur laughed to himself, trying to talk to you in a rather strange language that was known to nobody but himself. Noticing he would not undress and was rather kicking his legs with a frown, you sighed and obliged. You knelt before him and took his boots off.

"Let’s get these off, shall we ?" you smiled

Arthur titled his head, you could barely resist to this attitude. Arthur was always quiet around the rest of the gang, never displaying any signs of childishness. However, at this moment, the way he looked at you reminded you of a young man, or a puppy. You took his boots off, carefully unbuttoning his shirt, trying your best not to meet his gaze a second time. Otherwise, you would certainly end up blushing and kissing him everywhere you could. It was hard to resist, whatever Arthur was doing.

"You’re handsome, Arthur." you whispered while attempting do drag one his arms out of his shirt

"No, I ain’t handsome." Arthur responded with a rather raspy voice, still displaying evident signs of drunkenness. "I’m ugly. The ugliest man on earth."

"You ain’t ugly, Arthur. Next time you’ll say it, I’m gonna slap you across the face."

"I’m ug…-"

You quickly rose your hand before Arthur’s face, making him shiver and shut his mouth. You hated listening to him complain about his appearance. To your eyes, and to the eyes of a vast majority of the people who had the opportunity to meet him, Arthur was handsome. Handsome and charming. You would get lost in his blue/green eyes and melt each time he winked or sent you an unexpected smile. To your eyes, he was most certainly the most handsome man you had ever met. And listening to him insulting himself when looking at his reflection was always devastating to witness.

"I’m not ugly." he gasped as your hand moved back to his shirt

"Better."

He did not move a finger, allowing you to slightly undress him. You took his shirt off, removing his suspenders in the process, gently rubbing his skin with your hand. After being done, and mostly tired, you pushed him on his cot, making him rest his head on a makeshift pillow you had bought for him earlier. He cherished this pillow, as well as any gift you would be willing to give him.

Each flower you collected during your travels would be kept on his bedside table, even these small funny shaped rocks you would find by the river. He loved piling them next to him when he was alone and nobody was watching, grumbling and sighing when his construction would collapse, and be overwhelmingly excited when you would bring him another one. You could see how happy he was to see you, and how much he loved these weirdly shaped rocks you kept offering him. He adored seeing you coming to him with a large proud smile blooming on your face, impatient to show him your latest discovery.

In exchange of your various gifts, Arthur would also bring you flowers from his trips, as well as a few antique alcohols. He always enjoyed offering you his drawings, you had a full collection of them in your chest, cherishing every single one of them. You were the only gang member to know how sweet he was behind his brawny stature. Whenever he was with you, you would never get into any trouble ! Everyone would easily be scared by this man, built like a tank !

"Stay with me." Arthur said with a soft voice, certainly not wanting to let you go

You could no longer resist, your eyes met his. You felt like melting as Arthur gave you this puppy look which would win you over anytime he wanted something. You could easily do the same to him, just throwing him some subtle glances which would instantly drag him to you. Just a word and he was yours, entirely. But right at this moment, you were the one that was his. You could not resist to this gaze filled with desperation and love.

"I can’t, Arthur."you sighed, feeling tired. "I need to sleep too."

"Please." he begged. "Stay with me ?"

"Don’t you want to drink some water first ? You must be freakin’ thirsty !"

"I am… Could you get me some water ?"

His weak voice broke your heart. His throat was sore, you did not even think about giving him any water on your endless trip to his tent ! You quickly left his tent, he whined a little before sighing, placing his hand on his forehead. He could not get some water by himself. He knew he would not remember anything from this night, not even being this soft with you. He had always been a bodyguard around you, but you did not mind his rather childish attitude. In fact, witnessing his soft side was not as bad as you thought. He was handsome and adorable at once.

You came back with a glass of water. As you handed it to him, Arthur almost made the glass fall, his vision being mostly blurry. You sighed and smiled, him struggling to grab a glass of water was certainly a funny thing to watch. As soon as he caught the glass, he chugged it without even bothering about the fact that a third of it landed on his bare chest.

"Slow down, feller." you smiled

"Agh, sorry. " Arthur gasped. "I feel like I haven’t been drinkin’ water in ages !"

"Morgan… you fool."

After finishing, Arthur gave the glass back to you and sighed, feeling a little better. However, he could not even more his legs properly. He remained seated for a short while before turning his head back to you. Arthur slowly opened his arms for you to embrace him, you could not leave him anymore. Not like this. His pleading look and teary eyes were so pure that you could almost forget Arthur was a 36-year-old cowboy. Lenny had the same impression when he got drunk with Arthur at the saloon, a few weeks ago. Whenever he was drunk, Arthur was cheerful.

You smiled and took your boots off, causing Arthur to tap the side of his bed with the tip of his fingers. He wanted to rest on you, not next to you. In fact, there was not enough space for you two to fit his cot, and you were certainly not sleeping on him. You knew Arthur was probably going to get up early for his morning coffee, you did not want to make him uncomfortable. You gently moved next to him, Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His beard tickled you a little, you chuckled each time his breath would caress your skin.

"Comfy here, Mr. Morgan ?" you smiled

"Hmmm. Yeah. Comfy."

You caressed his back with the tip of your fingers, he chuckled and wriggled a little, begging you to stop. He would rise a little above you and unexpectedly kiss your lips before falling back on you, resting his head on your chest. You were shocked, but still loved it whenever he would kiss you so unexpectedly. Your hand rises above his head, caressing his dirty blonde hair. You have always enjoyed patting his hair, whenever you would be able to reach his head. You loved this silky touch, his short locks running between your fingers. And, despite denying it, he loved it too. Nobody had the right to touch his head but you.

The two of you waited for an hour until Arthur started yawning. His head nuzzled against your chest, listening to your heartbeat had made him slowly drift away into sleep. He loved your embrace, feeling great and, somehow, safe. You also loved it, you loved having him over you like this. He felt like a heavy blanket, you could not catch a cold with him laying above you ! You blew out the candle, he moaned as he felt you moving. You apologised by running our hands into his hair and kiss the top of his head.

"I love you." he mumbled

You shivered, not being sure about what you had just heard. Arthur, saying he loved you ? Nonsense ! He would barely dare kissing you around camp, he knew people would give him a side look, especially Hosea. The latter was very close to you like mostly a father-figure, and sometimes was worried about the way Arthur would approach you. He knew Arthur was somewhat rough and did not really approve anything between the two of you, he still enjoyed seeing you happy. It was all that mattered. Seeing his kids happy was a treasure, his treasure.

"What did you just say ?" you asked, still surprised

"I love you, Y/N."

Arthur’s voice was so weak, you immediately felt the need to kiss the top of his head ore more time. He had never told anything to you, Arthur was really awkward when needing to verbally express his feelings. He knew how to make you understand by his gesture, his embrace, these hidden kisses behind the trees or straight inside your tent, him catching your hand when the two of you were eating… hearing him whisper such a short sentence made you melt.

"I love you too." you whispered back, holding Arthur close to you, enough to break his bones in the process.

[pri-haaa]

I Wish You Were A Girl. (Part 2)

→ Rody x Vincent (Rodincent)

→ Kind of fluffy, still has undertones of angst

→ Takes place after Ending 1: Table for One

(catch me if you can)

Description: He missed her voice. He missed everything about her. He missed the way she made him feel. Rody just wanted her to pick up a phone, for her to talk to him again. Why wouldn't she answer? Why wouldn't she give him another chance?

Being unloved as well as broke didn't sound very appealing to poor, heartbroken Rody. So, with crumbling hope that he would ever hear from Manon again, he trudges back to the bistro.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"L-Listen, forget the dinner. Can I just hear your voice?" Rody pleaded desperately into the flat-lining payphone. "You haven't picked up a phone for a week. Please, just let me know that you're there..."

"Goodbye." the answering machine responded cheerfully into his ear, cutting the beeping line. Rody sighed and placed the phone back into its original place. Tears welled up in his tired eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. "Manon..." he whimpered softly to himself, allowing stream after stream of tears roll down his cheeks.

After 10 minutes of sobbing, Rody picked himself back up, roughly wiping away the tears that stayed stagnant on his cheeks. He hated himself for letting this happen. If only he hadn't been so self-sacrificial, this wouldn't have happened. If only he knew how to love someone, she wouldn't have left him. If only relationships weren't so damn difficult, he wouldn't have had any issues from the start.

If only.

Rody found himself back in front of La Gueule de Saturne, looking at the glass doors anxiously. He had quit his job as a waiter because he had made enough money to take Manon out to dinner. But now, she wasn't even picking up his calls. This opened up a whole new can of worms, but he decided the first course of action was to get his job back, stabilize his life.

He stepped through the door, alerting the attention of a certain chef that happened to be walking to the front of the house.

Vincent's eyes widened as he took in Rody's figure, standing by the door, looking absolutely miserable. He knew it wasn't the time, but he felt heat creeping up his neck upon seeing Rody without his black blazer, and in just his white dress shirt. He quickly composed himself and stepped forward, a confused look on his face.

"Rody?" his voice was softer than usual. "What are you doing back here? You were pretty happy to resign from this position." Rody blinked at Vincent, trying to find the words.

"I'm...not in a very good position right now. I figured that I should...keep making money and stabilize myself. Get my life together, you know?" Rody tried to sound like he was happy about his decision, but in reality, he was an absolute mess. Vincent nodded silently and stepped aside, allowing Rody to step further into the bistro. His eyes never left his walking figure.

"I haven't yet found a replacement for you, so I suppose it's good that you came back before I did." Vincent tutted in a matter-of-fact voice, trying to sound nonchalant like he usually did. He was lying through his teeth, he had put off finding a replacement because of the little hope he had that Rody would come back. It seemed that his tiny wish had come true, and his heart wouldn't stop beating at a rapid pace.

Rody smiled gently. "I'm glad." he sighed as he slowly slipped on his black blazer, fastening it against his muscular figure.

Despite looking like the picture of misery, Rody worked the floor, running around and taking orders like nothing had ever happened. Vincent watched him from the kitchen windows, examining Rody's fake smiles and cheerful facade. As the shift wore on, the familiarity of the restaurant's atmosphere and Vincent's occasional quips and lectures put Rody in a slightly better mood. He started to enjoy having other things to think about other than Manon. Though, she would always be in the back of his mind, infiltrating his headspace and showering him in the memories of the pleasant times he's shared with her. Memories that had soured significantly.

Their relationship was like a flower. It withered as time went on due to the lack of nurture, and died out completely.

The day ended and Rody sighed a sigh of relief. He leaned against the counter, nodding at the chefs that filed out one by one to go home. There was only one person left; Vincent. After hesitating for a moment, Vincent walked up to Rody, struggling to find his words. Eventually, he parted his lips to speak.

"Good job," he spoke, "it's pleasing to know the way we do things here hadn't immediately left your mind the moment you resigned." Rody couldn't help but chuckle at Vincent's little jab.

"Thank you, Vincent. And, thank you for taking me back. I know it was probably a little confusing when I just up and left like that, but I'm glad you were kind enough to rehire me." Rody smiled, his words laced with gentle gratitude. Vincent's breath hitched.

"It's...no problem." he finally breathed out. "It's a little nice to be back! I had no idea I had gotten so used to this place despite only being here for one week." Rody continued on, his eyes averted, so he couldn't see the emotion welling up in Vincent's eyes, and the way his expression was changing rapidly.

"I'm...glad that you...came back." Vincent muttered under his breath so that Rody was unable to hear me. "I-...I wanted you back-"

"I wish Manon were here to see how much I made from my first week alone, though." Rody finished, pulling out the envelope that kept the money he had earned. He stared down at it with a sad smile.

He pocketed the envelope back up and looked up at Vincent. "Well, I'm going to head home. See you tomorrow, boss." Rody gave Vincent one last casual grin before strolling out of the bistro, his hands stuffed in his pocket, whistling a faint tune.

Vincent stared at the closed doors. Darkness draped over the bistro like an ominous blanket, the only sound that could be heard was the low hum of the freezer. His facial expression darkened, and his eyes slid downwards to his hands. His palms faced back at him. And he could almost see it. The pale skin of his hands stained with crimson red blotches of blood. Blood that had oozed from a stab wound.

Blood that belonged to Marieanne Vecher. Manon.

His hands shot up to his face, covering the panic that was slowly adorning his features. His breathing became erratic as memories from what he had done, what he had destroyed, flashed through his mind like some cruel picture show. Slowly, he forced himself to calm down, reminding himself as to why he had done what he did in the first place. It was all to infuse love into his cooking.

That's it, all he wanted was to understand the concept of cooking with love. All he wanted was to give the boy he liked something that he could enjoy. All he really wanted...was for Rody to enjoy his food.

Vincent uncovered his face and breathed out a tired sigh. He turned his head and stared at a specific spot. Where the freezer would be if he were standing inside the kitchen. "Manon can be a memory to him now. He doesn't have to know what happened." Vincent whispered to himself as he locked up the bistro. As he turned the key in the lock, he looked backwards again, his eyes narrowed.

"He doesn't have to know what I've done."

[bluegalaxygirl]

A sight you shouldn't see (Law X reader)

Plot: You have to head back to your old school run by your aunt to help out with money issues. The heart pirates want to see your old school but you refuse. after being away for too long Law goes looking for you the crew demanding they come along. What they find is another side of you they have never seen before

Law X reader, reader is female (Sorry), established relationship. Got reminded of an old movie i used to watch over and over again, i love it so much, St. Trinian's. Listen to the playlist on youtube its awesome and i wrote this while listening to it.

Warning: Bad language, Crime, Blood, violence, seduction

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Packing your bags was hard with the heart pirates asking to come with you every few minutes, it didn't matter how many times you said no and that men weren't aloud at the school they still asked. You refused to give them the name of the school since it was quite well known and not for good reasons. Finally, packed you headed out your shared room with Law and down the hall Bepo, Penguin and Shachi following behind you still try to convince you to let them come "That's enough" Laws voice echoed thru the Sub standing at the main door "Leave her alone. You're not going" The three signed their eyes shifting to the floor and muttering a sorry. "At least tell me where your going" Law asked as you walked over to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "I can't but if anything happens the address is in this." Handing your captain a sealed small latter which he gladly took "I'll be back in three days. Try to get some sleep while i'm gone" Your concerned about him and his bad sleeping habits, most nights you have to drag him away form his desk to sleep. Law scoffed at you looking away seeming embarrassed by your words. "Well i better get going". Opening the door your met with a cool breeze and a very large island with a bridge going over to another larger island. "Come back safe Y/N" The crew called as you stepped off the sub and onto dry land. You waved back at them a hand grabbing yours and pulling you forward lips crashing onto yours. Law wasn't big on PDA so it was rare for him to kiss you in public, you leaned in nonetheless running your fingers threw his hair and under his hat. He pulled away first locking eyes with you, he didn't need to say anything, he eyes told you everything you needed to know, he loved you and he wanted you to stay safe. Kissing the tip of his nose he took his hand off your wrist and watched you walk away the crew behind him shouting their good bye's.

You loved your crew, but they didn't know about the school you used to go to and the fact that miss Fritton, the head mistress was your aunt. Your parents found you too much to handle and sent you to the privet all girls school with a reputation for taking on the most troubled youth. You might think that a school like that would be strict trying to convert the violent and foul-mouthed girls but it was actually the opposite, Your aunt and the teachers wanted to enhance those skills, teaching you all how to fight, scam, lie and cheat your way thru life and that's why you didn't want any of your crew to know. St. Trinian's was known all over the globe mainly because some of the biggest scam artist and thief's come from that school. The heart pirates saw you as sweet and kind-hearted happy to lend a hand to any crew member for what ever reason. Of cause, you could fight and hold your own but you weren't the type to kill a man while he was down and had no weapons. You used your skills to help the crew with money, you did small scams now and again to rake in more Berries if you were running low but made sure the others didn't find out. The only thing they do know is to never play you in any card game, you always seem to win either by siking out your opponent or out right cheating without getting caught somehow. You've been chased out of casinos for winning too much and taking the money the crew helping you with the bags of Berries back to the ship.

3 days went by and you weren't back but the heart pirates did receive a letter stating you will be staying a few more days and you'll meet them at the next island. Law didn't like you being gone for so long and with no phone call only a letter, it made him wonder if you were ok. The crew were getting upset with the thought of leaving you behind and moving to the next place, their complaining voices sent the Captain over the edge yelling at them to shut up and let him think heading to his office to get his head straight. A few hours later he made a decision stating that he would head out tomorrow morning to the location in the letter, the letter didn't have the name of the school on it just the address and a phone number with a small note saying not to call the number since no one will answer. The crew of course argued back wanting to come with, the crew booing their captain making his anger boil over again but it ended up being Bepo who manged to convince the captain to let them all come with. Law hated yet loved the cute fluffy white bear and those big puppy dog eyes filled with tears made him unable to refuse hiding his blush and small smile under his hat.

The next morning the crew set off, the crew ended up pulling straws to see who had to stay behind with the sub, it ended up being Bart, Uni and one other crew member who stayed behind while the others walked behind their captain. Heading over the large bridge Shachi ran up next to the captain looking a little concerned "Urm captain, i didn't realize it until now but i think i know this place" Catching the captains and the crew's attention he carried on "There's only two big school in this place and one of them is St. Trinian's" He whispers the last part as if it was the worst word in the wold but a few of the other crew started laughing wiping tears form their eyes "Oh come on man" Penguin ran over pulling Shachi into a head lock "There's no way were heading to that school, Y/N too sweet for that place" he laughed as the man under his arm struggled to get free. "Knock it off both of you" Law glared at the two making Penguin let go the two walking behind him again. It was a long walk but they soon reached an over grown winding road spikes sticking out of the trees with strange skulls attached to it. A large sign on the open black metal gates reading Danger keep out in bright yellow letters and a carved stone plaque with the school name on it, St. Trinian's. "Are you sure this is the place, Captain?" Bepo asks looking over the mans shoulder to see the piece of paper in his hands, it was the right address, this is where you were and this is the school you used to go too. Law couldn't help but be shocked he's met a few girls form this school and all of them were nasty almost demon like in nature but you were nothing like that. Swallowing the lump in his throat he walked past the gates and down the road soon reaching a large castle like building, very clean and well maintained for a place with such a reputation. Making their way closer to the school Law heard your voice, it sounded so sweet a tone you have never used on him before and in a way it made him jealous. Slowly opening the cracked open door of the school revealed a strange sight, the front office didn't have much at all, on the left side of the room is a large wooden table with a lady sitting in the chair painting her nail, she doesn't even look up to notice the crew there just waves her hand in a way that says get lost. Tiled floor leading up to a wide stair case going up and behind the woman at the desk. At the far end of the room a suit of armor against the wall with painting that have clearly been graffitied over multiple years. On the right side is a ratty old couch and coffee table directly across form the desk with you and a man on it. Law froze seeing you loom over the stranger, the mans tie in your hands twirling it around your fingers to get a tighter grip on it, your foot on the mans thigh too close to the mans crotch for his liking, the skirt you were wearing riding up slightly on your thigh a state of shock and anger filled his body until you did the something he's never seen you do before.

You loved being back at your old school and seeing your aunt, it was also great to meet the new head girl, both of you became quite close over three days and worked together to come up with plans. Your aunts school has been suffering for a while and the booze they make and sell in the basement isn't enough to sustain the old building and its students. The Bank demanded money becoming more confident over time that they could take on the school with your Aunts growing age. She still had a temper though and with you around to fight for her she knew the school was in safe hands. Your aunt never married or had kids, there was only you and her but you were never interested in taking over the school, and she didn't want to stop you form doing whatever you wanted, she was also very proud of you, the first St. Trinian girl to become a famous pirate alongside a war lord but the world didn't know where you came form it didn't matter though, you're well-loved by most of the students and teachers for your accomplishments. You didn't mind having to stay a few more days, the money you made wasn't enough for the bank and someone was going to come round the next morning bringing some kind of letter. You requested a female do it since the girls her are more than happy to rip apart a man on sight or try and flirt with them.

The first class was in session and you were wondering the halls dressed in almost school uniform, a white blouse with rolled up sleeves and three top buttons undone, a black short skirt just touching the middle of your thighs and black see thru stockings that almost touched the hem of your skirt. Your black high heals taped on the solid tiled floor only being interrupted by a loud male voice from down stairs yelling about something. Making your way down the steps you leaned on the railing soon seeing a man in a suit clearly form the bank yelling at the young lady at the desk, Jenna was her name, she didn't care much about her job only doing the bare minimum, but she was good at not taking shit form people, popping her gum Jenna leaned back in her chair popping her feet up on the table and looking behind her, up at you looking down at her form the stairs "I'm sure she can help you instead" Jenna has some kind of sixth scene about her maybe she somehow knows Haki with being able to sense what's around her without even looking. You fake smile and walk down the stairs the mans eyes unable to leave your figure "Hi, i'm Y/N Miss Fritton's niece" You round the corner of the stairs holding out your hand for him to shake. It takes him a second to stop staring at you and take your hand "I'm sorry... i'm with the bank, i'm here to deliver this to Miss Fritton" The man reaches into his briefcase and pulling out a large envelope. You snatch it and open it while he watches your every move and your face turn form a flirty smile to an annoyed look. In large red letters printed on the paper it read "Foreclosure notice" you whispered the words as you read out loud "You're trying to close us down?" Your eyes shift to the man your look making him back up slightly.

Ripping the letter up and throwing it behind you onto the floor you push the man onto the sofa a think layer of dust floating into the air. He tried to get up but your heal goes to his thigh digging in as you bend over him grabbing his tie, your face now back it its sweet flirtatious smile "I'm sure Mr... sorry i didn't get your name" the man looks up at you with fear but also a bit of lust "K-Kent" he stutters unable to his eyes off yours "You know we have a rule here... no men on the property. You see anything can happen" you say in the sweetest voice you muster almost like soft caramel, Kent's breath quickens as you lean in to his ear "Things can get a little... messy, people get hurt " you pull away a almost evil smile threatening to appear on your face "I-i would never hurt you o-or one of your girls" Kent stutters watching you laugh lightly pulling on his tie a little "Oh i know sweetie... the rules not in place for our safety... it's for yours" On your last word you pull the tie as tight as it can go strangling him. he tries pushing you off but you keep your grip while your foot keeps his leg down heal digging in almost piercing the mans skin, he struggles to breath grasping at his neck and your hands trying to loosen the tie. "Shhhhh, its ok... just let this happen" you sooth keeping your voice sweet as his eyes looked at you in horror a evil like smile forming on your face.

"That's enough Y/N, don't kill the man" Your aunts voice calls out making it down the stairs and looking over at the door to see Law and his crew looking at you in shock "We have guests" she calls smiling at them, she's never met a war lord before and hopes it will be interesting. You take a few more seconds before letting go and stepping back watching the man fall onto the floor pulling his tie off and taking a deep breath trying not to pass out. Your eyes shift form the man to the door the smile fading form your face and heart stopping in your chest, Law your lover and most of the crew were there looking at you in shock. "Law?" you ask hoping you were just seeing things "Welcome." Your aunt says walking over to your side "Jenna be a dear and help Mr Kent into the other room" the girl at the desk blows on her fingers before walking over to the man and helping him up with her dry hand walking him thru to one of the back room. "Well, isn't this exciting, a War lord of all people at this place. Iv heard a lot about you and your crew. Please come, lets have a drink" Your aunt smiles wide hugging you form the side as she walks away with you down the hall and into her office.

Law and the crew couldn't believe what just happened, if it weren't for that woman you would have killed an unarmed and defenseless man something you have never done before. "C-Captain?" Penguin asks placing a hand on the man's shoulder gaining his attention as you left with the woman down the hall. Law didn't know what to do or how to feel. You shocked him but a part of him liked it, the way you dressed and how you dealt with the situation made his heart flutter a little. "What do we do?" Penguin asks after not getting an answer, Law sighs and looks away tilting his hat down "Come on" The captain commanded walking into the building and down the hall you went down into a large room with two big sofa's facing each other a desk with papers stacked high and a small bar in the corner. "Please sit" The lady form before gestured to the sofa across from the one she was sitting on, You walk over from the bar handing a glass of what looks like Whiskey and black ice to the lady holding another one in your hands.

Law walks over his crew following as he sits on the sofa, the crew looks around the room leaving Law, Bepo, Penguin, Shachi and Ikkaku the only other female on the crew to sit on the sofa, law in the middle one leg crosses over the other. You walk over to him and hold out the the glass in your hands to him refusing to look him in the eyes. He hates the look on your face, shame shouldn't be something you feel, your a pirate, hurting people and being a criminal is part of the job so why are you ashamed. He reaches up taking the glass in his hand letting his thumb run over your fingers prompting you to look at him. Law smiles up at you moving over a little patting the now free spot for you. You wanted to cry at that moment, even after seeing how cruel you can be he still wants you at his side. Sitting down next to him his other arm goes around your waist his hand resting on your hip as he pulls you closer to him. "So... it is true." Your aunt spoke up snapping your eyes away form Laws and to her "You two are together." she finished sipping on her drink. You look down at your lap smiling a little trying to stop a blush from forming on your face "So you know about us?" Laws asked his thumb rubbing your hip giving you some kind of comfort "Of course, My niece never stops talking about you lot" you blush harder giving her an angry look "Auntie" you yelled out the others looking at you before laughing "Man Y/N" Shachi laughs slapping you on the back lightly "You love us that much" he laughs your blush growing brighter as you turn to face him "Shut up Shachi" Law can't help but smile seeing you back to normal, well the normal he see's on the ship, a sweet and kind girl who is easily teased by his crew but you could never hate them.

"So what's going on here?" with the laughter dying down Law spoke looking across the room at your aunt "Well Y/N do you think they can help?" she asks looking at you trying to take your attention away form Shachi who your almost having an angry staring competition with. Giving up you turn to face your aunt then Law. He squeezes your hip leaning in a little closer a subtle way of telling you he's there for you "The schools been late on payments for years only now demanding payment since aunties getting older. I paid it in full yesterday but their still threatening to close us down" You explain the rest of the crew listening "The man from before came with a Foreclosure notice and..." you stop yourself form saying more only for Law to let out a small laugh, it shocked you a little wondering why he would be laughing at this "So you tried to kill him?" the blush came back to your face as he looks down at you "NO... i mean yes but.." You tried to say more but got cut off my Laws face getting closer to yours "That's my girl" he whispers your heart pounding in your chest at the look he gives you, it would scare others but you loved it, it made you want to kiss him right there and then but you know he doesn't like that kind of things, not in public anyway. "Im sure we can help right Captain" Penguin smiles looking at Law while the others cheer along hoping their Captain will agree "Im sure we can do something to help" Law answer pulling away form your face to look at your aunt who smiles back at you and the crew.

[rassvetsky]

there's bucky on your masterlist so here i go, bucky hiding and taking care of reader when the reader is being searched for? maybe the reader is a former enhanced soldier or something like that too. i hope i made myself clear lol thanks!

tysm for the request!! im actually so happy that i got a bucky barnes request hehe (and this specific anon sent me another ask with a pt. 2 idea are they perhaps an angel.)

Lost & Found

bucky barnes x gn!reader

it takes one brainwashed soldier to find another.

[3.6k] | ex hydra!reader, mentions of torture, mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, being chased, trust issues, traumatized reader, my poor english skills & bucky being a sweetheart. pt. 2 later maybe??

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Your legs felt like they could give out any minute, your lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. You didn't feel like you had enough time for a deep breath as your feet carried you forward, making you feel a bit dizzy and disconnected. The relief of knowing kept you sane, however. Knowing where you were, what you were doing, who you were.

God, you missed knowing who you were.

Before it all, you were an excellent Intelligence Officer, under SHIELD's wing. Kept your personal life and job far away from one another, divided by a three-meter long rampier. Came back from work to a quiet, warm apartment where you could finally relax and unwind.

That was until during one mission, everything went downhill and you lost contact with the rest of your team- your tracker was broken to pieces after the fall, your body covered in debris. And even though you expected to see familiar faces when you finally opened your eyes with a pained grunt, you only saw the muzzles of a few guns pointed at you, before you blacked out again.

That's where a brand new chapter in your life started, erasing each and every single one behind.

Memories of the past few years were reduced to snippets of gore. Your blood, mixed against someone else's. Torture, inflicted by you, or to you. Information that didn't belong to you instilled in your brain. You didn't have a say in it. You couldn't, because how could anyone stand their ground against scary men with weapons bigger than themselves?

It took them a long while to trust you with missions. Your mind refused to let them in at first, knowing exactly what was to come. Exactly what they were trying to create out of you. You held on for as long as you could, no matter how painful it was because you still knew that even if you cooperated, they'd still hurt you, just to break into the barriers of the human mind.

When they started making progress with the brainwashing period, the training period started. That part was a bit rushed, you were a needed asset and you couldn't be kept in a base forever. Certain missions were supposed to be completed, and most of the time, they weren't that hard on you. Even though they didn't let you go on every single mission, the ones you went on were exactly what you were trained for. Infiltrate, execute, abandon. Nothing big. Get back to the base, and wait. Until next time that they'd need you.

You didn't plan on going back. Not anymore.

And that's why when the base got raided down, you didn't stay to help. You didn't stay to be rescued, even though you knew exactly who was behind the raid and they could definitely help. Through the sound of bullets shooting through, walls being broken down, and screams of pure agony, you still ran, far away from anyone that could recognize you.

But Bucky did.

You gave him the push to escape after the Battle of Triskelion, and still, let him go. Told him to never come back, no matter what. Didn't tell anyone.

He wanted to come back for you, he tried to; but you were moved away before he could get to you. And with that, you were a ghost again. Untraceable. Back to square one, former intelligence officer of SHIELD that got 'killed' after a certain job. Someone who knew too much, someone nobody dared to look for.

He tried to get his hands on everything he could find about you. The school you went to, your late family, former co-workers; everything. Intervention after intervention, at some point, he finally stopped chasing after a ghost, taking Steve's advice. But even when nobody saw you run, he did, and he would recognize you anywhere. Just like you did for him years ago, he let you go, and didn't tell anyone.

It took you a while to get back to your senses. Your brain desperately wanted you to go back to the base, just because you got used to it all. It was a constant battle between knowing you should never go back to that hell, and feeling worthless unless you do.

You knew that couldn't just resurface after all those years, after everything you've done. After everything they made you do. Even though you didn't have a say in anything, you were still the one who pulled the trigger, and you wouldn't exactly blame anyone for thinking that you changed your side on purpose, brainwashed or not.

And back to the moment, as everything you've been through flashed before your eyes, you kept running. It was the desire to stay alive that kept you up on your feet, that let you run even faster than you thought you could.

Out of all the other places, you didn't expect to be found in Slovakia, and honestly, you weren't even sure who it was behind you, but you still ran through the empty streets in the night, footsteps as quiet as they could get as you pushed yourself forward with every ounce of power left in your body.

But the sound of the motorcycle engine kept drawing closer and closer, as you held onto the straps of your backpack tighter and kept going. The pads of your feet, your calves, they all hurt but you weren't going to stop now. Not that easy. And when you finally saw your figure shadowing the motorcycle's headlight, you reached for your pistol, silencer worn.

The engine stopped. You stopped. And for a moment, nobody dared to make a move. Not even a sound was spared through the quiet nature of the night before you slowly turned around, pistol pointed towards the driver. Tactical outfit, fully black as if he wanted to blend in with the shadows, just like you. He seemed muscular, biceps visible through the thick material. And he just stood there, not even daring to draw a weapon. Just stared, you assumed, behind the helmet.

"I'm going to ask this once," you spoke up, voice raspy and a bit out of breath. "and you're not getting more than ten seconds to answer. Make a move, you're dead." you took a few steps towards him, shaky hand clutching the cold metal weapon so tight that you felt like it wasn't even shaking anymore. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer at first. Just reached for his helmet, as slowly as he could, before lifting it off his head. Brown, medium-length hair fell against his face before he pushed them behind, and a pair of eyes locked gaze with yours. You could see him with the street light's contribution, and the face was way too familiar, so you figured he was one of the-

Oh.

Of course.

Those steel blue eyes. You'd recognize them anywhere. "Got your answer?" he spoke, for the first time, and his voice erased every single one of your suspicions. It was him. The one and only, Winter Soldier, most important asset of HYDRA. The one you were sent a hundred times to clean up after, to protect, to report to. Only he could be dumb enough to come back for you, even when you specifically told him not to.

"Asset."

The long motorcycle ride didn't help with your exhaustion, it only added to the fuel in the end. No words were spared until he led you to an empty apartment and locked the door behind the two of you, as you dropped your backpack on the couch before sitting down with a grunt. The place seemed quite rundown and empty, it was even cold. You didn't let your attention linger for any longer though, as your gaze fell to the hardwood ground beneath your feet.

Feeling his eyes on you, you decided to keep asking your questions until you could feel satisfied. Until you could feel trust forming. "How'd you find me?" you asked, watching him as he handed you a bottle of water, which he took from the console by the side of the room. He didn't speak until you took a few sips -which kind of made your throat hurt after all those hours of endless running and gasping for air-, taking a seat on the couch right by the side of yours, leaning back with a sigh of comfort.

"Let's just say I know the path a brainwashed soldier would follow," his tone was soft, almost as if he was trying to assure you that he wasn't posing as a threat here. He was on your side, his eyes desperately tried to tell you that. They held a glint of sympathy and understanding that you haven't seen from him before, back then you only knew him as HYDRA's fucktoy, held up to a certain importance which didn't keep him off from torture by any means. "You weren't easy to find, I'll give you that-"

"Why?" you blurted out, elbows against your knees as you buried your face in your palms. It all hurt- your brain felt like it was way bigger than your skull and you swore you could feel the pressure against the bone. Your throat was still sore, your legs felt numb and you just wanted to keep your eyes closed for a week straight. And through it all, you knew it wasn't worth it to go through all of that trouble, just to find you. You couldn't help but wonder if he had other plans with you, but for some reason, a voice in your head kept telling you to trust him. "Why would you even fucking bother?"

"Why did you bother?" he snapped back, one side of his lips tugged upward in a cheshire-like grin, just a bit more friendly than that. "I'm just paying you back." you didn't answer that, not exactly knowing what to say. You just exhaled through your mouth, looking up at him after a while of contemplating everything.

"I don't even know your name. You're just- Winter Soldier. The Asset, for me."

"I know yours."

"That's just creepy." and he chuckled at that, amused.

"It's Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Kind of surprised I wasn't the first thing you looked up after escaping." you shook your head, only able to offer a poor excuse of a smile as you rose up to your feet, all-tactical outfit not comfortable in the slightest bit.

You didn't tell him that you barely had an hour to sit down, the paranoia of being found eating you alive as you kept yourself in the shadows.

"I'm going to take a shower. And go to sleep. Don't make me regret trusting you, Barnes."

Let's just say, he didn't make you regret trusting him one bit. The two of you remained hidden for a couple of days in Slovakia, before escaping to Romania through the Hungarian border. It was an almost an eight-hour drive including your stops and the detours -and God, it made you hate motorcycles- before you two reached a safer spot -in his words-, to plan what to do next.

Bucky knew that the Avengers wouldn't trust you at first. For all the right reasons, obviously, he wasn't even sure why he trusted you in the first place. You just had something about you, a light in your eyes that still persisted, gentleness in your movement. He saw himself in you.

You weren't exactly in a condition where you could trust anyone either, you knew that the Avengers weren't the bad guys, not in the slightest, but you knew what kind of judgment you were going to face. The man helping you hide told you all about the judgment he went through. The fight between Stark and Rogers, how things that happened outside of his control caused a turmoil of events which eventually led to almost being killed by an Avenger. Not that Stark was wrong whatsoever, but you both knew that if HYDRA wanted you to do something, you would do it. Because the consequences would be far more horrendous.

And honestly, after all of that trauma, you weren't sure you could go through another set of people telling you that you're a disgusting murderer, nothing above an asset, nothing more than a toy. An evil being by choice.

And sure, you weren't former best friends with Steve fucking Rogers, you and Bucky barely knew one another. It only made sense for you to fear whatever it is that could come from the Avengers. "You know, you can't be on the run forever," Bucky absent-mindedly mumbled when you two were relaxing by the couch one day, while snacking on the leftover fries you ignored earlier, as you kept your eyes on the cartoon playing on the screen.

"Nothing else that I can do," you shrugged, reaching for his lap to steal a piece of food. He kept looking at you, this couldn't be kept up forever. The Avengers kept asking him where he was and what he was doing, and just for the sake of you, he had been lying to his friends for weeks now.

"Look, even if nobody else does, Sam and Steve would trust you," he huffed out, trying to reason with you. He understood the paranoia that kept you on the edge, but it wasn't like you were completely helpless. "Can't we give it a try?"

"If you want to leave so bad, Barnes, just go. You don't have to drag me along." you sighed, tucking your feet under your body to keep them warm. "I'm so grateful for everything you've done but please, I won't need your protection forever."

"And I know you don't, sweetheart," he wasn't giving it up, not that easy. Getting a hold of your wrist, he tried to tug you a bit closer. "But you need to trust me, yeah? Nobody's going to judge you while I'm here, not like they judged me. I'll make sure of that."

At that, you finally looked at him, heaving yet another sigh before reaching in to wrap your arms around his neck.

That was new.

You buried your head on his shoulder, eyes closed as you felt his arms wrap around your figure, too. His embrace was warm, humane, and so foreign that it made you flinch against his figure at first. Even though you fought against the trauma, it had still been years since you've had anyone touch you in a friendly way. "It's not that I don't trust you," you whispered. "I'm just afraid of everything going downhill again and- and ending up exactly where I started."

Bucky felt your pain in his chest, too. "That's not going to happen," he whispered back, reassuringly patting your back. "Not while you got me by your side. And if you'll only let me, Sam and Steve, too. Nothing you've done is unredeemable, there's nothing to be ashamed of." he pulled you away a bit, just to have you looking at him. "This isn't nearly as safe as where I want us both to be. Nobody can hurt you there. We'll- we'll find a way to get rid of the nightmares, the guilt- everything."

You could only nod as an answer, already -mentally- exhausted by everything that had been going on. You leaned on him for a while longer as he held you, whispering things in your ear that felt just right to hear. Some way, somehow; he knew exactly how to keep your mind at the moment, rather than in the past. He knew exactly how to remind you that it was all behind you now, and you only had the moment and the future coming after.

A few more days passed until you gave in and let him give the infamous Captain America and the Falcon a call, you specifically waited in your room until his conversation with them would be over because you didn't feel like you could handle the slightest bit of distress on his face at that moment. Your worries proved themselves to be unnecessary though, as Bucky burst into the room after a few minutes, relief clear on his face.

"Steve said he'll talk to Tony," he hummed, settling down on the bed right next to you. "Tony can be a bit suspicious of literally anything, but he means well. Hopefully, they'll arrange a ride for us and we'll be on our way, alright?"

"Right," you noted, a timid smile on your lips as you reached for his hand, holding it between both of your palms. "Thank you, Bucky."

"Anything for you."

You noticed how time would pass a bit faster in the Avengers Compound, as you were surrounded by things to spend your day with. You often found yourself in the training room, taking your frustrations out from a poor punching bag -which you started to feel bad for, even though it was clearly inanimate- or watching whatever movie you could find.

You didn't really talk to anyone else other than Bucky, and they didn't push it. After a few interrogation sessions -which Steve assured you that they were done just to learn more about what HYDRA did to you-, you were finally left alone -at least a little bit-, deciding to spend your time trying to get to know these people. You knew they used to work for SHIELD as well, but you never personally worked with them.

You found it easy to be comfortable with Natasha, she wasn't the most emotionally available person ever but she understood what you went through.

She'd try to drag you along to get-togethers, brush out your hair when you felt too out-of-it to do so, and sometimes even sit with you through a movie.

Sam was a bit harder to be around, but he was way too sweet for his own good. He did almost everything in his power to get you to play table tennis with him and to make it a usual "Y/N and Sam time" event, and it meant the world if he could get a smile out of your mostly-neutral expressions.

Steve was patient. He was easy to talk to, and easy to be around. And you knew that it was him who trusted you the most, after Bucky. He made sure you didn't skip any meals and kept your training up just so you wouldn't fall behind.

"If you want to redeem yourself," he said one day, after a particularly exhausting session, "You could help around in the Compound, or with missions. Not saying you have to, but if you ever wanted to, I'd love for you to tag along."

You were forever grateful.

The rest took a bit longer to give you the benefit of the doubt, but your fears diminished with time. There were certain ground rules -such as an alert system going off whenever you left your room, and of course, any sharp objects were kept far, far away from you- but finally, you were above a freak. A murderer.

After one long day, while everyone was huddled up in a room to watch a basketball game -which, according to Sam, was the most important thing to happen in the past few years-, you decided to get some fresh air and join them later.

Stepping out of the compound building, you sighed contently, the late night breeze waking your entire being up successfully. You paced around by yourself for a small while, before hearing the sliding door open, a smile making its way to your face almost immediately when you noticed it was Bucky. "Hey, you," he walked towards you, hands tucked tight in his jeans pockets.

You kept your eyes on him, expression soft and relaxed -which, Bucky wasn't used to seeing, but he could admit that it was one of the most beautiful sights he laid his eyes on-. "Aren't you gonna watch the game?"

"You weren't there, so," he shrugged, earning a subtle chuckle from you. It was then, that he reached for you and wrapped his flesh arm around your shoulder, tucking you close to his chest. "I'm glad you're here, you know?"

"Me too," you leaned against him, wrapping your own arms around his waist loosely as you looked up at the stars, at the moon. You were sure Bucky was the one to hang it there. "I'll- I'll get back on my feet as quickly as I can. And then I'll be of use, I promise."

"You don't have to rush," he snickered against your hair. "Let yourself heal. It's just nice to know that you're safe."

You slightly pulled away from him, hand against his chest as you looked up at his eyes. They were shining in all the right ways, reminding you where home was. By his side.

Now or never, you thought, before raising yourself a bit on your feet and planting your lips against his, unable to break away from the tentative kiss even after a few moments as he held you there. As he kissed you back. And he was so gentle as if you were made out of porcelain; soft lips brushing against yours with a meek passion. Each and every touch of his lips added fuel to the wildfire burning through your insides, keeping you warm through the breeze. You held his face in your palms as he tucked you closer to his body, both of you smiling against the kiss until it broke away.

"I've been planning on doing that for weeks." he breathed out, chuckling to himself in disbelief as he shook his head. "So thanks, for stealing my idea."

"Oh shush."

[fazar234]

Understanding Lanolin

(First time doing an analysis, so I hope y’all like it!)

Hey all, it’s been a minute hasn’t it?

With Issues 63 and 64 of the IDW comics for the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise having released, it’s caused quite a lot of division amongst the Sonic fanbase, in regard to one new character in particular: Lanolin the Sheep.

And hoo boy, it has not been pretty.

A while back, I sent an ask to a user by the name of @molinaskies (btw go check her out if you’re into analyses of Sonic’s character and Sonamy fanfics!) about her thoughts on Lanolin, and she replied with a post stating why she wasn’t a fan of her character.

Now, I believe that everyone has the right to like, dislike, or be neutral towards whatever or whoever they want, including Sonic characters. If you don’t like Lanolin, that’s totally fine by me and I respect your opinion.

However, due to all the ridiculous hate she has been receiving lately, I feel obligated as a Lanolin fan to state my own reasoning and analysis behind her character. As such, this post will be meant to serve as an understanding towards Lanolin and her character.

Now, before we go any further…

This is not meant to come off as forcing my opinion onto molinaskyes or anyone else! We all have the right to our own opinions, and we should all be allowed to like/dislike whatever characters we want to! This is just a post stating my opinion and reasoning behind Lanolin, nothing more, nothing less!

Alright, with that out of the way, let’s begin!

Who is Lanolin?

To put it short, she’s a sheep from the IDW comics who started out as a background character in the form of another Restoration volunteer and eventually worked her way up to the rank of a primary protagonist in Issue #57, taking on the role as leader of the Restoration’s new task force, the Diamond Cutters.

Her first ever appearance in the comics is Issue #2, where Sonic and Amy are doing a formidable job defending Riverside Village (Lanolin’s hometown), which is being hoarded by badniks, until Lanolin runs in, informing them of an incoming army from the west. She’d then help evacuate the citizens into the bunker and assist in taking down the army.

Since then, she’s made plenty of background appearances throughout the comics, helping citizens, taking care of various tasks at Restoration HQ, or just chilling (which, given her character, is pretty rare).

Lanolin’s Flaw

Fast-forward all the way to Issue #57, where Lanolin gets her chance in the spotlight, and from there, along with further issues, we get a better look at her character.

She gets startled quite easily, doesn’t approve of recklessness, and prefers to operate with a proper plan. She also has a more stoic and serious personality compared to the other characters, which I feel is a nice change of pace, and can come off as bossy to others (which I’ll dive more into later.)

She wasn’t like this in her previous appearances before 57, and I believe the reason can be attributed to the trauma the Metal Virus, as well as other minor disasters seen in the comics had on her. She doesn’t want anyone to feel scared and helpless again, which is why she formed the Diamond Cutters, and why she doesn’t seem to take well to things going wrong.

In Issue #58, she looked defeated because of the scouting of Eggperial City going wrong, and in Issue #63, she snapped at Sliver because of the training mission getting out of hand with the boulder incident (more on that in a second.)

Lanolin doesn’t know how to adapt to the unexpected, and it’s a flaw she’ll need to overcome in the future, or she may meet the same fate as a certain platypus.

Lanolin’s Perspective

Now then, onto what I’ve been wanting to talk about most: her actions and perspective in 63 and 64.

In the past three issues that have released thus far, we, the readers, have full knowledge of everything that’s been happening.

We know that Mimic has joined Clutch and disguised himself as Duo the Cat to infiltrate the Restoration and join the Diamond Cutters, so that he could get close enough to get revenge on Tangle and Whisper. We know that he sabotaged the team’s training session by kicking Silver (which Whisper managed to notice) and causing the boulders and the flood. And we know that he made Silver look bad by falling off the chair he was controlling and made it look like he had attacked him.

But Lanolin doesn’t.

From her perspective, Duo is just a new recruit who wants to make a difference and is expected to make a few mistakes. She sees him as someone she used to be. It’s why she took Duo’s side in Issue 63, when Silver accused Duo of ditching him while he was struggling to restrain the Giant Chopper from consuming him whole, because to her, Duo had only been to overwhelmed by the situation to do anything, and from her view, Silver was the one responsible for the accident, someone she had expected better control from, given his experience.

Now before you all go “OH WHAT DOES LANOLIN KNOW?! SHE’S JUST A NEWBIE AND SILVER’S THE EXPERT ON PSYCHOKINESIS! HE SAVED THE WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES!” Yes, we know he’s more talented than everyone gives him credit for. But Lanolin doesn’t. She doesn’t share the same history with him that everyone else does. If she did, she’d know that Silver would never lose control that easily unless something (or in this case, someone) sabotaged him, thus leading her to also suspect Duo.

And the same applies to 64. Lanolin asked Silver and Whisper for proof, they only responded by trying to assault who to her, was just an innocent individual who felt helpless and scared, something she never wanted anyone to feel. From her perspective, a powerful psychic and an experienced mercenary were accusing a new recruit of being some shapeshifting murderer, without even bothering so much as to offer a tad smidge of evidence that Duo was indeed a shapeshifting murderer.

And before you go: “WELL THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE HER ATTACKING WHISPER AND HER ATTITUDE!” Whisper literally made the first move by grabbing Lanolin’s arm! She was simply trying to defend herself and be rational, stating that they needed to talk about her problem as a team! As for her remark calling herself a soldier, this is one of her flaws, her bossiness, coming into play here! She’s not a perfect person, none of them are! She’s a flawed character, who’s experienced in certain aspects of leadership, but is still new to being a hero.

Silver accusing people at random isn’t anything new; we’ve seen it before in Sonic 06 and the Traitor Arc in the Archie Comics (which I personally haven’t read myself), and the reason why Whisper was too quick to act was because this is Mimic, the guy that killed the closest thing she had to a family! You really think she was just going to stand there and let him do it again? Yes, she should have acted reasonably but she let her emotions get the better of her. And it’s because of that that Duo was able to remove any suspicion.

And before you ask “WELL WHY DID LANOLIN VOTE TO KICK SILVER OUT BUT NOT WHISPER?! SHE ACCUSED DUO TOO!”, I beckon you all to look at this scene here.

Duo tricked everyone into thinking that Silver was the one who attacked him, not Whisper. Had Whisper been with Silver, it’s likely she would’ve been kicked out as well.

A villain’s plan to manipulate can only work if someone’s fallen for the bait, and Lanolin is indeed one of those people. I imagine once he gets caught, Lanolin’s gonna learn from this and she and Silver will make up and all will be good.

Lanolin and Tangle

One more thing that people’s miscomprehension has annoyed me about: the dynamic between Lanolin and Tangle.

In @molinaskies' post on Lanolin, she stated that Lanolin has an objective problem with Tangle and would go as far as to replace her. And I’m going to try to not sound too harsh here, but NO? SHE DOES NOT??

In Issue #58, Tangle was the one to comfort Lanolin when she felt defeated during the Eggperial City mission, and in Issue #59, Lanolin nearly sacrificed herself to save Tangle from the dimensional traps! And that whole gag with the pong-pong ball and Lanolin swatting it away in Issue #62 was literally just that: a gag! Lanolin definitely gets irritated by Tangle, but she doesn’t outright hate her! Would someone who wants to replace a teammate nearly get themselves killed to save said teammate?!

Conclusion

Wow, that was longer than I imagined.

I’m sorry if I ever came off as harsh during my analysis, but it just irks me that most of the fanbase won’t bother trying to see scenes from different perspectives, and it feels like they don’t tolerate flawed characters at all.

In the end, though, you’re all free to like or dislike Lanolin if you want. Everyone has the right to their own opinion. But at the very least, you should learn to properly comprehend perspectives and realize that none of these characters are perfect.

I hope my analysis brought you all some insight, and I’ll catch you all later.

[moonlightazriel]

Son of the Darkness II /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Word Count: 2K

Notes: Finally chapter 2 is here, thank you for the support and kind words towards my project, it means a lot to me.

Son of the darkness masterlist

Main Masterlist

Azriel sat quietly in Rhysand’s office, things among the courts were already tense, and the news he had received weren’t good, someone was using the secret passage between the Autumn and the Night Court, and this could bring serious issues between his brother and Beron. Rhys entered, with Cassian glued to his side, he could see the tensed shoulders and tired expressions, with the war coming and Feyre back at the Spring court, there wasn’t much they could do.

“My spies informed me that someone crossed the border of the night court.” He started, his shadows moving hesitantly around him, Rhysand sighed, drinking his freshly made cup of liquor. “Coming from Autumn.” He stopped, his violet eyes narrowing as the engines on his brain worked.

“What they are fucking doing? This isn’t the moment to play.” Cassian angrily spoke, his distaste for the other court evident in his tone and features, he was fuming, wanting to march there and punch whoever Vanserra crossed his way.

“Can you two investigate? Find who crossed and bring them to me, we can interrogate them to see what they want from us.” Rhysand ordered, he didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with another problem, he was already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he didn’t need any more burden.

The two Illyrian nodded, excusing themselves before they got ready to leave, they took only fifteen minutes to gather everything they needed for their excursion, weapons, supplies, and the letter one of his spies sent to him, and they were winnowing, going to the border to investigate and stop whoever dared cross to the night court.

Azriel unleashed his shadows as soon as they reached the right point, they whispered to him that one person had been there less than two days before, they had a horse and they were heading east, in the direction of Velaris, which was the only information they were able to gather before the brothers decided that flying would give them a better vantage than walking around like two fools.

In the air they could see the trail of horse hooves, which could only be the person they were looking for, and they followed it for three days before they finally caught something, it was like a whisper, and as they flew closer, they could hear a female voice talking, it was a soft calming voice, maybe it was someone running away from Autumn, honestly, they wouldn’t be surprised if this was the case.

They landed, hiding behind a few trees, Azriel slowly unleashed his shadows, they traveled to where the female was, and as they got to her, they started screaming, telling Azriel that she was ready to leave, they told him that she was armed and he should be careful around her.

“She has weapons, and she’s going somewhere, my shadows said that she was holding a map, she’s probably searching Velaris or some city nearby.” Cassian nodded.

“Then we wait for the night before we go after her, she can’t go too far.” Sounded like a good plan.

They couldn’t be more wrong than they were, she had walked for days and it took quite a while for them to catch her trail again, it was night when they found her, she had a campfire and had settled her things down so she could rest, the plan was to wait for her to fall asleep and then they would capture her, easy and simple. They hid in the dark, Az’s shadows helping to cover their huge bodies, and as she closed her eyes, they stepped forward, drawing their swords, they started to walk, for heavy warriors, they had very light feet, and no sound could be heard from them, but as they got closer the horse turned its head in their direction, screaming in surprise, waking up the female.

Her eyes shoot open and she reached for the sword lying next to her, her fingers grabbing it hard and she got up impressively quick, she aimed for Cassian, he barely had time to defend himself when she launched herself at him, her sword hitting him with strength, the sound of metal against metal filled the space and Azriel moved, truth teller in hand as he tried to stop her, only when he made a sound was that she acknowledge him, her eyes landing on his figure, looking at him up and down, he couldn’t describe the gaze she gave his direction when she spotted his shadows, her stance faltering as she dropped her sword, ready to be taken by them.

“Hello my lord.” She said to him, bowing her head a little, and Az felt weird, he was ready to reply that he wasn’t a lord or noble at all, but she turned her back to him, allowing him to approach her.

Azriel watched the female, her inky black hair, her skin only a few shades clearer than his, and the same brown eyes his mother had, something about her giving up so easily felt dangerous like they were making the biggest mistake, he tied her hands up, while Cassian removed her weapons, taking her things away from her.

“Let’s winnow her back.” She turned around locking eyes with Azriel.

“You can’t leave her here. I’m coming with you but you must bring Midnight.” Her voice was filled with concern as she gazed at the animal, she was right, they couldn’t just leave the mare there like this, Azriel rolled his eyes but it was Cassian that spoke.

“You take her to the Hewn City and I take this horse back.” He side-eyed the animal, almost as big as Cassian was, it was a beautiful horse.

“Let’s go then, call Rhysand if you need.” Cass nodded at him, and he grabbed the female once again, winnowing her to one of the filthy cells at the court of nightmares, he sat her on a chair, mentally warning Rhys that he had the intruder and she was ready to be interrogated.

“Beautiful shadows, where did you get them?" She asked, her eyes following him around, filled with silent rage and in that moment he understood, she was there only because she wanted to be, she was capable enough to escape him easily, and he knew, she wasn’t the kind of female you should underestimate.

Azriel leaned against the desk behind him, quiet as his shadows rested around him, and he held truth-teller, he couldn’t help but stare at her, she was pretty, in a way he had never seen before, the way her lips curved and she had a mischievous look on her face, he was intrigued by her, wanting to solve the mystery in front of him, but he didn’t dare to speak. Rhys called him in his mind, asking him to meet up in the city and he left, leaving the female there.

“What happened?” Rhysand asked, he was pacing around, the meeting with Keir had stressed him out, and now he still had this problem to solve.

“It was a female, she does look like she’s from the night court but I know she’s not, she has this strange seal on her chest but she hasn’t said much.” Rhysand nodded, and started to walk, he wanted to deal with this personally, he had this strange feeling that something was wrong and he was sure that Beron had something to do with it. Rhys entered the cell, Azriel glued onto his side, the unknown female looked at them, bowing her head as they approached her.

“High Lord.” She greeted them, Rhysand rolled his eyes, he didn't have the time to deal with this bullshit.

“Cut the formalities, who are you?” His voice was serious, he tried to take a look into her mind but found nothing, mist covered her thoughts and pushed him away, making him dizzy and his vision foggy, he never saw that type of mental shield before.

“I don’t mean to disrespect you in your own house, but I was talking to him.” She pointed to Azriel with her chin, the two males looked at each other, this female could only be mentally deranged, Azriel high lord? Was she joking?

“He’s not the high lord of the Night Court.”

“I know that this title belongs to you Lord Rhysand..” She moved uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes following Az’s every move. “And that’s why I’m here, he may not be your high lord, but he’s soon to be mine.” Azriel laughed sarcastically, the stoic expression gone, a smirk dancing on his lips, he held  truth-teller against her neck, ready to take the answers he needed from her.

“Enough with the jokes, you better answer him, or I’ll make you.” She could feel the cold blade on her skin, so sharp that she barely breathed trying to avoid a cut. She smiled at him, the sight making his knees go weak and she whispered to him:

“That’s hot.” He huffed, getting away from her, feeling his cheeks hot from her flirting. Rhysand stepped forward, taking the lead, unleashing his power just a little, the walls and the floor shaking as he tried to scare her but she didn’t seem impressed by him. “I’m from The Court of Shadows, Loralen, the high lord sent me, your friend over there is the next in line to be high lord.” Azriel was ready to disagree, she surely was mocking him.

“That’s not possible, The court of shadows was destroyed in the war.” Rhysand sat in front of her, looking at her eyes, he could see the honesty written in every line of her face, she couldn’t be speaking the truth.

“Almost, we were left in shambles, that’s why Loralen decided to hide us, so we could recover and strengthen our armies again. We know about what’s coming, my soldiers are ready if the high lord wishes to participate in the war.” Her eyes drifted to Azriel once more.

“If you have an army, why did you decide to hide while Amarantha was ruling over Prythian?” Rhysand looked at his brother, his violet eyes warning Azriel, he should shut up, they weren’t that different from Velaris, hiding to protect her people, he could understand that.

“Amarantha was a child, playing with her little ant farm, Hybern is the real threat, if his plans succeed, no one will be spared from his wrath, I wouldn't waste my warriors on her.”

“Your warriors?” Rhys looked at her, if what she said was true, he was going to need her and her troops.

“I’m Y/N Daera, general of the Nightfall Army from the court of shadows.” Rhysand tried to look into her mind once again, but the dense mist was still there. “If I can have my bag back, there’s a letter explaining everything in there.”

“Azriel, please go get her bag.” Rhysand dismissed his brother, he needed to talk to her alone, and Azriel winnowed away. “I would like to have a look in your mind if everything you said is true, I just….. I need to know.” She nodded, and as he entered her mind for the third time, everything was clear for him to see.

He could see parts of the court, the armies she was talking about, and then a memory from an old man, he somehow reminded him of Azriel, his features seemed familiar, the same hazel eyes from his brother looking at him, the man was speaking to her about his daughter and how she should go to Prythian to find his grandson, the man was dying, Rhysand felt how the life was slowly leaving his body, he pulled away, astonished.

“Loralen is dying, we need Azriel, we need our High Lord.” She spoke, her eyes filled with worry and sadness, Rhysand didn’t want to imagine what could happen if his brother didn’t fill his role as high lord. “Our courts can be allies, we are ready to open up to the world again, but we need him, the court will crumble if he doesn’t assume it.” Rhysand knew she was right, the court’s power depended on the high lord, and the numbers of her armies were too big to ignore.

“I’m going to help you, but it’s his decision to leave.” Rhys got up, and removed her chains, setting her free. “Welcome to the night court.”

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 3

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Kara was seated across from Lena in her office. They were both just staring at each other with Samantha looking at them nervously from the other side of the room. It felt like they were in a never ending don’t blink challenge except that it had only been just a few minutes. Lena’s startled stare from early had turned icy. Kara had to admit to herself that Lena was impressive. The girl exuded confidence and intimidation with her stare, but it wasn’t enough to scare Kara off. She just kept giving her brightest smile while she waited. After another 2 minutes, Lena blinked, sighed, and shook her head. Kara had to stifle the chuckle that threaten to come out of her mouth. 

I may be able to wear her down just yet.

“Why are you here, Supergirl?”

“As I was telling your co-worker over there, I am here to volunteer for the hospital. I saw that you needed people to interact with the….”

Lena shook her head and said, “No, No. No. Don’t give me that professional bullshit! Why are you really here?”

The raven haired beauty leaned forwarded in her chair with her eyes issuing a challenge. 

Ah, she can be insightful. But would she be receptive to my true motives though?

“Honestly, I would like to use this opportunity to set myself apart from the one you called if I remembered correctly, a pompous jackass.”

“I knew I should have paid extra to have this whole office sound proof,” Lena muttered. 

Kara chuckled to herself. Lena was proving herself to be more and more interesting. She just wished she could be completely honest with her. It wasn’t quite a lie that she told her. She hated constantly being compared to the golden child that is her cousin. At least that is what the public believes. They already established a narrative in the papers that she was not only his cousin but that she was younger than him and had took her in like she was some poor defenseless child. 

If only they knew that I am not only technically older, but had to change that bumbling idiots diapers. 

“Some would see this as some type of ploy given our families history,” mused Lena. 

Hmmm, not taking the original statement. Going to have to push just a bit harder.

“I do see your point, but I think this can be an opportunity to help each other.”

Lena narrowed her eyes and scoffed. 

“And how exactly is that?”

Kara smiled brightly and said, “I did a quick research on this hospital last night. You poured a good portion of your money into this place to create state of the art equipment to provide the best quality of care for the children here. However, you have no investors to keep the cash flow coming. Several papers have done hit pieces which suggest you are working with Lex at the hospital in order to experiment on kids.”

“Which are all lies!”

Kara smirked and said, “I know that, but the public needs help with figuring that out.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I propose a partnership between the both of us. You can use photos and videos of me interacting with the kids at the hospital, and I can make an appearance at the hospital’s benefits and events to create a positive spin to rehab this place’s image.”

“And what would you want in return?”

“I just need to work off my $10,000. Plus, it would be an added bonus if this helps people to stop mistaking me for my cousin.”

Lena sighed and placed her head in her hands. 

“I don’t know about all of this.”

Sam came over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Lena, this really could be we have been waiting for.”

“There has to be another way,” Lena muttered. 

Kara leaned back into her chair with a coy smile. 

“I guess the question you need to ask yourself is if you want your pride to come before the hospital since you don’t have enough money to keep it open another two months.”

Lena smashed her fist on her desk and looked enraged. 

“Hey! That is not fair. I can stretch my funds a little longer until we find somebody…”

Kara brightly smiled while leaning forward. 

“Do tell. Who exactly will be helping? The public hates you. Other superheroes seem to have the same perception as well since I am the only superhero that has applied to your posting other than the trolls since it went live over a year ago.”

The hate for Lena wasn’t exaggerated. The vitriol that Kara read in the paper about Lena made her skin crawl. The other superheroes weren’t much better. Some wanted to torture Lena to find out what she knew about Lex, but Clark stopped them. That startled Kara considering his hatred towards her brother. He said that going after her would go against everything they stood for. Kara often wondered if that was really true or if he was just giving the politically correct response. Kara stared back at Lena. She looked like she was in emotional turmoil twisting her hands like they were on fire.

Sam shook her head and sighed. 

“Lena, we are at the point where it is this or your mother and you know how your mother is.”

Lena placed her head in her arms on the desk and groaned for a moment. 

She looked back up with a grimace on her face. 

“Alright, we have a deal.”

Kara smiled brightly and put out her hand. Lena looked at it with a frown at first but gradually took her hand and shook it.

“Trust me! This will be a start of a beautiful relationship.”

“If only I could believe that fully.”

“Aww. Don’t sulk. I think we can make SuperCorp into a thing.”

Lena raised an eyebrow while staring at Kara.

“SuperCorp?”

“Yeah. A Super and a Corporate woman putting their families petty differences aside to make the world a better place. You can use it in marketing to promote the activities and benefits you want me to come too.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Sam chuckled and said, “It sounds perfect. I can already think of the things we can do with that theme.”

She quickly began jotting several ideas down in her phone.

Lena stared incredulously at her friend and loudly whispered, “Don’t encourage her!”

She turned back to Kara with reigned in passivity. 

“How do I contact you about upcoming events?”

Kara pulled from her pocket a small hand held device and handed it to Lena. She looked back up at Kara with confusion.

“You really just want me to press just the red button and you come running straight here?”

Kara chuckled and said, “While the red button is for emergencies, there are several other smaller buttons that you can used on the device.”

Lena frowned and looked at it more closely. She didn’t notice before, but there were several buttons, a phone and a pen. She pressed the phone icon which produced a holographic keypad where you can dial out and make a call. She noticed it had a contact list which currently only listed Supergirl, but didn’t display the number. She pressed the pen icon which brought up a holographic keyboard where she could type out messages. 

She looked up at Kara impressed but quickly changed her expression to passiveness. 

“This will do just nicely.”

She is so cute trying to hide how much she likes the tech.

Kara was jolted out of thought by a noise coming through her comms. 

“Supergirl, this is Batman. We need you in Central City. Gorilla Grodd and Solomon Grundy are raiding S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Kara sighed because she had been enjoying the tense conversation with the intriguing Ms. Luthor. 

“I am sorry to have to cut this meeting short. Duty calls.”

With that, Kara quickly flew from the room. 

It may take some time, but I think I can win Ms. Luthor over. 

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 | next: Part 10 | ao3

If you miss a path, you take a new one or go back where you started (hiya! It’s been a minute ^^ i hope you’ve all been patient since the last update. and October is already almost over what the f-)

To say the drive to Forest Hills is a quiet one is barely an understatement. Because a quiet car ride wouldn’t send Joyce’s insides on a frenzy and make her debate about just opening the passenger door and jump out like in her younger years.

Wayne hasn’t spoken a word since he offered the ride to his home. He occasionally sends glances at her, but otherwise his eyes are on the road. Despite his soft expression, Joyce is certain that Wayne’s opinion on her is already changing.

At first, Joyce had been relieved that somebody actually believes her about Will. But now, she feels like a soulless bitch. Because what the hell was she thinking about throwing Eddie’s name to Wayne and manipulating his grief? What if the Eddie is with Will isn’t even Eddie Munson? And what would’ve happened if Wayne never believed her? How even would he reacted?

“This is your problem, Joyce. The second you hear someone having the same issue as you, you immediately assume you know everything and you bring them close just to hurt them. Just like how you keep hurting me. Can you please stop using people’s pain against them before this town decides to hurt you back?”

Joyce bites the skin around her thumb. She’s suddenly seventeen or nine again, head down to her chest after the clinic appointment or another school fight with Nicole Crawford. Her mother’s driving with her furious eyes on the road, never glancing at Joyce. And she’s giving the same scolding again and again-

Heavy guitar music suddenly fills the truck. Joyce jumps in her seat with a shriek. She looks over as Wayne immediately slams on the radio, stopping the deafening noise. A cassette tape pops out and he snatches it.

“Sorry about that.” Wayne says sheepishly, fondling the radio dials to a lower volume as another station comes on. “Sometimes Eddie sneaks in those tapes of his unlabelled. Swore to me up and down that it’s supposed to be some kind of wake-up alarm for my early shifts, but…” He trails off, staring at the tape long enough that Joyce’s worried they’ll drive off the road. But Wayne shakes his head and puts it on the dashboard.

Soon he tunes into a station that sounds like country music. Joyce looks at him again anxiously, but Wayne’s already staring through the windshield again. “Thought some music would help.”

“Oh.” Joyce says softly. She looks down at her thumb, already abused by her teeth and the hangnails torn off. She doesn’t say thank you because she’s certain that Wayne won’t like it right now.

The drive is still quiet, but some of the tension eases out of Joyce.

Eventually, they arrive at the Forest Hills park and Wayne’s pulling up to his trailer. Already, Joyce feels the resident’s stares on her even before she steps out. It might just be her paranoia, but she doesn’t dare turn around to check.

She forces her gaze forward as she follows Wayne up the porch steps. She notices how he freezes for a few seconds before he creaks the door open slowly. He pokes in his head through and Joyce wonders if there’s someone else there. But Wayne’s shoulders drop with visible relief and walks right in.

“C’mon in.” He tells her with a tiny beckon of his head. Joyce looks down at the threshold, takes a deep breath, and crosses it.

The Munson home is a bit bigger than Joyce expects, but she feels the rest of her stress lift away almost instantly. It could be just how homey it looks and feels. Warm and inviting without a single space left for the cold.

She just hopes that it wouldn’t turn against her.

As she looks around, Joyce sees a phone laying on the ground with one end almost blackened. A sense of déjà vu overcomes her as she picks it up. She holds it by her ear but, when she hears nothing, hangs it back on the hook.

“So.” Wayne starts, leaning back against the kitchen counter. He suddenly looks tired.

Joyce looks around, eyeing every lightbulb she sees. “W-Where exactly did your lights flicker?”

Wayne points over at the kitchen. “Saw ‘em at the living room too. One of the lamps next to the couch though. And I think one by the door.”

Joyce bites her lip as she studies the kitchen first. She starts making her way towards there, glancing at Wayne for silent permission. He gives her a small nod and she continues forward.

“..Will?” She calls out softly, watching the lights carefully. Wayne’s eyes are burning through her back, judging her. Joyce wraps her arms tight around her stomach, breathing slowly. “Will? Are you there?”

The lights don’t respond.

It brings her back to that first day when her lights had went haywire. Before Joyce had realized it was her boy trying to speak to her. It makes her nervous thinking about it. Why isn’t Will communicating to her?

“Eddie?” She tries, carefully keeping herself from glancing back at Wayne. “Eddie, are you here with Will right now?”

The lights remain dark.

Joyce feels herself biting around her fingernails again and forces herself to stop. She finally turns to face Wayne. He hasn’t moved from his spot, although she notices the lines around his eyes seem to harden. Her heart falls and she’s almost ready to let herself give up and apologize for hurting Wayne like this.

Instead, she braces herself again and asks, “Do you have any Christmas lights?”

Wayne furrows his brows in bemusement, “Christmas lights?”

Joyce nods, “It was better for me to talk to Will. Well, I had to paint the alphabet on the wall so I could understand…”

Wayne finally moves then, walking away further down the trailer. For a moment, Joyce believes he’s leaving. But then there’s sounds of rummaging and he returns, carrying a coil of Christmas lights on top of folded sheets. The ones with bigger bulbs that Joyce also uses.

“We don’t celebrate, but better to decorate and pretend.” Wayne muses, handing the lights to her. Joyce hesitates, waiting for him to snatch it back and bark at her to leave like the psychotic bitch she is. He doesn’t do that - only looks at her with weary eyes that seem to be more sad than angry. Like a man desperate enough to turn to such weird practices to find his nephew.

It feels like a truce when Joyce takes the lights. She’s careful in untangling them and finding one of the outlets to plug it in. She turns back to see Wayne laying the sheet down on the floor. It’s a ragged white with a few grey stains and a faded alphabet spray painted on it.

“When Eddie came to my door, he couldn’t speak at all.” Wayne starts, laying his hand over to smooth down any wrinkles. “The home he grew up in with his parents… it was pretty bad enough to make him mute. I had to do baby steps on figuring how to make him talk again. So I created a couple games.” He sits down on one side of the sheet, nodding at Joyce.

She kneels down first, carefully lining the lights up over each letter, listening.

“This game I made with this,” Wayne continued, “well, it doesn’t have a name, but how I taught him was I would throw a word at him, ask him what letter it starts with, and he would point at one of these letters.” He taps on the ‘M’. “I’d say, ‘Say, Eddie, what does the word muse start with?’ And he just walks over to the sheet I hung on the wall and points at the M.”

After the lights are done with, Joyce mirrors Wayne, sitting crosslegged. His gaze is on the sheet, almost watery.

“After a few weeks of that, I start pestering Eddie a bit. Tell him that he doesn’t need to get up and point all the time. He was a smartass even then so just he points at the alphabet and I have to tell him that I can’t see which letter he was pointing. And eventually… he starts saying the letters aloud.”

Wayne cracks a smile, “He had the most adorable voice. I nearly cried when I heard him for the first time because that’s my nephew, who wouldn’t love him? After that, he starts talking more, all in full sentences. So I folded the sheet, put it in the closet, and that’s how the game ended.”

He takes a shuddering breath, blinking rapidly and rubbing two fingers over his lips. Joyce blinks away the tears that were welling in her eyes and slowly reaches over to wrap a gentle hand around Wayne’s wrist. He meets her gaze and she offers a smile that she hopes is beyond than just sympathetic.

“You sound more like a father than an uncle.” Joyce says quietly.

Wayne shakes his head, wiping under his eyes. “I get that a lot.” He leans back, although he’s careful not to completely rip away from Joyce’s hold. He takes a few breaths before he looks back down at the Christmas lights and sheet. “Now, how is this supposed to work?”

—

“Country roads, take me home…”

The lyrics aren’t as familiar in Will’s mouth as the walk back to his house. He had heard the song a couple times on Jonathan’s car radio and the chorus was pretty catchy, but he doesn’t remember the rest of it too well.

But it’s better to fill the silence between him and Eddie. Maybe a change of songs would help Eddie talk again.

“To the place, where I belong…” Will sucks in a breath and cries out, “Indiana!”

He looks up at Eddie expectedly, but the older boy’s still staring ahead blankly.

Will sighs, feeling guilty for he wanting Eddie to be better and back to normal already. He squeezes Eddie’s hand three times as he looks up. His house is just appearing in view-

and so does the demogorgon.

Will immediately freezes in his tracks. He barely keeps himself from falling over when Eddie continues walking until Will roughly tugs his arm to a stop.

The demogorgon is stalking along the side of his house, its long claws dragging on the wall. They’re both far enough not to catch its attention, but it doesn’t stop Will’s heart from racing wildly. He watches as the monster walks to the front, altering between going on all fours to two legs, its flowery head fluttering close by the windows as if peeking through the glass. Even from this distance, Will can hear it growling.

When it rounds to the other side, Will slowly takes a step back. His grip on Eddie’s hand is deathly tight as Eddie mindlessly shuffles back with him.

They keep going even when the demogorgon disappears behind the house. Once the house is out of view and much farther, Will finally comes to a stop.

This is bad.

He almost can’t think with how hard his heart is racing all the way to his head. The demogorgon is here. It came here. But why would it go to his house instead of Eddie’s when they were there almost all day yesterday?

He tries to rack his brain more clearly. Tries to think about the demogorgon’s stats and the last time he’s seen it. Maybe he had actually managed to stab it with the spear and it had given the monster enough damage to stay in the yard and heal? That makes sense, but if it got better, it could’ve followed him and Eddie to the trailer park again.

“Oh no..” Will whispers when the realization hits him.

The demogorgon’s expecting them to come.

It has enough intelligence to know how important WIll’s house is. So like any predator, it would wait there instead and then-

Will gulps, huddling himself closer to Eddie’s side. He looks at both directions of the road and then at the woods, trying to make a plan. They have to escape, but they can’t go back to Eddie’s trailer. They have to risk going to town and hide there somewhere instead.

But where?

The possibilities suddenly feel too overwhelming. Will sucks in a shaky breath, tears welling up in his eyes. He doesn’t know where to even go and he feels like he doesn’t want to. Squeezes Eddie’s hand so hard that it should make the older boy to react, but looking up to see Eddie still blank-faced only makes him feel like he wants to rip his chest out.

There’s a funeral for him, he can’t go to his house, he can’t hear his friends or talk to Mom, the monster is still stalking them, and Eddie’s unresponsive. He feels cold and tired and little sick. All of it is crushing Will on his back and he wants to kneel on the ground and scream.

But if he does that, then it might attract the demogorgon and it’ll kill them and neither of them will go home. So Will lets himself cry as quietly as possible, hugging around Eddie’s legs as he does.

After he’s done, Will’s other hand goes to his pocket and finds the ZIppo lighter. He flicks the lid open and feels absolute relief when the tiny flame sparks to life.

“Will the Wise, what is your decision?”

“I attack the demogorgon with fireball!”

“Then roll for it!”

Will huffs softly at the memory, not even few days old yet feels like forever ago. He knows he can’t attack the demogorgon in this state. If only Eddie can do his DM voice again to help him out-

A lightbulb goes over his head.

Will takes another sharp breath, twisting his head towards the other end of the road. They can’t go back to the trailer park, no. But he can take them to a place at last where the demogorgon should never find them again.

With a renewed sense of vigour, Will once again tugs Eddie with him. Hopefully, their journey would feel like a few minutes pass by the time they arrive.

—

The sun sinks in the horizon behind the trees, turning the sky to a dark orange-red haze and making the leaves glow. On another day, Jeff would loved the sight.

But today isn’t that day. Even a nature walk can’t lift his spirits up.

He’s alone again, walking to a direction he hopes would led him to some secret place where Eddie might be. Alive, of course.

After their own thorough search through some of the woods yesterday with no luck, Frankie had told Jeff that they should go home and start tomorrow. But then Frankie called this morning and said that with that funeral for the Byers kid happening, he couldn’t bear to go looking again.

Jeff had been kind, telling Frankie that it’s okay and he would still look for Eddie by himself. But now Jeff wishes he could’ve either stayed home or that Frankie hadn’t chickened out today because he’s feeling really depressed being alone right now.

It’s been a new feeling that he can’t shake off him since he had seen Eddie’s poster. Or maybe it started when Wayne had asked about Eddie’s places. No matter, it doesn’t stop making his side feel raw like the worst road rash in his life.

He wishes he can take back every comment of calling Eddie a thorn in his side. Because nobody should feel like they’re bleeding nonstop after the thorn’s out.

Jeff kicks a pebble. A twig. Another rock. A few leaves. It makes him feel a little better until he remembers one story from Grandma how after the war, she had once found a body after kicking some sand on a beach. Their face, to be specific, with glassy dirty eyes staring at nothing yet staring at her too. Jeff shudders and keeps his shoes from kicking anything else.

He climbs up a hill, a small one but it feels like a mountain to him. He looks around and shouts, “Eddie!”

It echoes and vanishes. Just like every time before.

As Jeff glances down, he startles at two people suddenly appearing just a few feet away. “Oh shit- sorry! I’m just, uh, walking by. For no reason.” He grimaces at his excuse, but they’re just strangers so why they should care?

One of them, a teenaged girl with her arms crossed and pinched eyebrows, takes a step forward, “Well, sorry to bother you, but do you-”

Her companion, a boy probably about a year or two older than her, clears his throat discreetly. Jeff squints at him, trying to figure out why he looks familiar. The girl turns to the boy and makes some sort of expression that Jeff can’t decipher.

“We’re just leaving. Sorry, bye.” The boy ducks his head in further and starts to walk away, but the girl grabs his arm to stop. She hisses something to him under her breath, to which he responds in a low mumble.

Recognition hits Jeff. He snaps his fingers, catching the duo’s attention. “Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, right?”

They stare at him for a moment that makes Jeff wish he didn’t say anything and just go back home. But then, Byers nods stiffly, “Yeah. Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.��� Jeff replies slowly. “I’m, uh, sorry about your brother. Hope you and your mom are doing okay.”

Byers gives him a stare that almost looks a thousand-yards away of throttling him, but then Wheeler clears her throat. Speaking of which, why are these two on a walk together? Isn’t Wheeler Steve Harrington’s new girlfriend on the line?

“Sorry, your name is..?”

He’s not surprised that Harrington’s girlfriend wouldn’t even know who he is. “Jeff. Jeff Endes.”

“Oh!” Wheeler’s eyes light up in recognition. “I think we have geography class together? With Mr. King?”

Huh. Never mind. Jeff’s lips twitch to a small smile with warm butterflies in his stomach.

“Right, this might sound weird, but have you seen anything unusual recently?” Wheeler asks.

Yeah, my best friend is missing and I think his uncle is butting heads with the cops. Jeff almost says aloud, but he swallows it and shakes his head. Instead he says, “Not really, no.”

“So you haven’t seen Barb around here?”

Jeff tilts his head at her. “Isn’t she your best friend?”

Wheeler’s smile is strained. “Yeah, but-”

Byers gives her another elbow nudge at her arm, which makes her glare at him. And then they’re back at the whispering argument. Seriously, what is up with these two? Jeff wonders if he’s now a victim of a very weird prank right now and wow, doesn’t that remind him of a hypothetical scenario that Eddie had wrote in his Munson Doctrine.

They both look back at him. Jeff contemplates in just sprinting off when Wheeler opens her mouth again, but then Byers says-

“We’re tracking down a rabid bear to kill it.”

Wheeler gives him a wide-eyed look. Jeff blinks slowly, expecting Byers to burst into laughter and give him a pat like Relax! Just messing with you! But Byers’ gaze is dead fucking serious.

“You.” Jeff begins slowly. “Are. Looking. For. A rabid…” He trails off, not bothering to finish that sentence.

“That’s.. something like that.” Wheeler smiles, tight and sweet. There’s a moment where Jeff spots a maniac gleam in her eyes.

“Yeah, okay.” Jeff starts walking backward, something he wouldn’t normally do in the woods but it’s time for desperate measures. “You two enjoy, uh, that. Bye!”

He turns around and starts speed-walking the way back. He doesn’t dare to look back, afraid he’s going to fall in some weird-ass rabbit hole with Wheeler and Byers. Which, again, begs the question: why are these two together bear hunting??

He probably doesn’t go too far when he hears a faint sound somewhere on his left. He narrows his eyes and goes over to investigate. As he walks closer, he registers the sound as a whine as if someone is in pain.

Jeff’s heart quickens. He breaks to a run. Maybe it’s Eddie and he’s been hurt all this time-

He comes to a stop.

“Oh.”

It’s not Eddie. Almost a bit of a relief, but not enough to keep his stomach from turning at unpleasant sight of a wounded deer on its side.

Its head keeps lifting up, emitting faint squeaks of pain. Whatever happened to it must’ve been some wolf or a bear based on its nasty gashes on its flank and belly.

There’s a crunching of leaves as a certain pair approaches. Jeff looks up to see Wheeler covering her mouth with a hand as she sees the deer. She makes a tiny sympathetic noise, muttering, “Oh no…” Byers almost looks more distressed than she is.

Jeff breathes out slowly and catches their gazes. He gives them an unspoken question: What are you going to do?

Wheeler lowers her hand, biting her lip. She looks at Byers, who’s still staring at the deer. He catches her eyes for a moment before he pulls out a small pistol from his jacket pocket, clicking the safety off.

Byers glances back at the deer and a steely expression comes over him. He slowly lifts the gun up, aiming at the head.

Oh god, he’s actually doing it. Jeff shuts his eyes, turning his head away. The last thing he wants to see tonight is deer brains splattering on the ground.

Several seconds pass without anything happening. But then there’s some sort of thudding and Wheeler giving a loud shriek. Jeff opens his eyes and turns to see the deer is gone. Nothing left of its existence except for the bloodstained, disturbed leaves.

“What the-?” He looks at Byers and Wheeler but they’re both staring ahead.

“The- It just-” Byers stammers. And then Wheeler darts off before he could even give an explanation. “Wh- Nancy!” He calls to her before he chases her.

Jeff watches them run off. He wonders if he can run off the other way instead because who the hell goes after something that grabs a deer right in front of them?

But Jeff’s used to idiotic shenanigans so he groans and starts following them.

He’s already lost sight of Wheeler (whelp, she’s dead) but he can see Byers (probably good for another minute) through the trees. Jeff manages to run a little faster just before Byers stops in his tracks and they almost collide.

“Shit- sorry, man!” Jeff pauses to catch his breath before continuing, “Where did Wheeler go?”

Byers doesn’t answer. He’s looking down at something, blinking in bafflement. Jeff follows his gaze to-

What the…

On the trunk of an oak tree, there’s a large hole. At first, it looks like what a fox would dig for a den, but foxholes don’t really look like they’re glowing pink with weird cobwebs in front.

Jeff rubs his eyes before staring back at the hole, unsure if it’s some colour hallucination. But nothing about it changes except that the glow looks a little more orange now.

“I saw Nancy…” Byers swallowed. “She, uh, I think she…”

Jeff very slowly turns to him. “She went. Inside?”

Byers gives a slow nod without breaking his stare from the hole. Jeff looks up at the sky for a long moment, praying to his ancestors for advice to avoid further white people stupidity and apologizing for the most idiotic thing he’s about to do.

“Give me your gun, man.”

Byers shoots him an incredulous look. “What?”

Jeff shakes his empty hand out. “Give me your gun! I’m not going in there even with a very large branch.”

Byers hesitates before he hands the pistol over. “You know how to use it?”

Jeff doesn’t answer, only snatching the gun and crouching down to enter the weird foxhole. He hears Byers calling his name but Jeff ignores him as he ducks his head inside.

It’s… definitely very weird. A little bit squishy and uncomfortably fleshy. Jeff hates it even if he’s in it for three seconds. When he comes out, he takes a thankful gasp of air and almost chokes at the drop of the temperature.

Jeff stands up, brushing his jacket sleeves. When his vision adjusts to the dark, he feels like every blood in his body freezing up.

This is.. Well, he knows this is the woods. The same woods in Hawkins that he swears he just left a few seconds ago, but it’s not. How can it be the same when it’s much darker than night with weird ash sprites floating in the air and thick vines wrapping around the trees?

Jeff keeps a steady count of his breaths, slow and deliberate. He calls out, “Wheeler!”

“Jeff?”

Jeffs whirls around, almost shooting the damn gun in his hand. But it’s just Nancy Wheeler coming right around the tree with the hole - or a portal?

Wheeler looks as bemused as Jeff feels. “What are you doing here?”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? You crawl in a hole that leads to whatever this part of the woods are and you are asking what I’m doing here? What about you?”

Wheeler almost seems ready to argue but she shakes her head and looks around, “I-I saw it. Came through here and I- crap, I don’t really know what even is this place…”

Jeff feels a violent shiver ripple through him. He rubs on his arms in an attempt to get warm. Holy crap, it’s freezing and he can see his breath. Wheeler is shaking too and it’s probably not because she’s scared.

“Hey, listen, how about we ask about the meaning of this place when we go back-”

There’s a low growl.

Jeff snaps his back up straighter, whirling around. Wheeler spins her head to another direction, her sharp blue eyes examining through trees. Whatever the hell it is, it seems to come from everywhere and isn’t that a pretty sign. It almost sends Jeff back to Eddie’s brutal campaigns, but he shoves the memory away before it comes to further fruition.

Wheeler gasps, “Over there.”

Jeff follows her gaze, trying to spot what she’s seeing. He can only see some kind of wolf devouring something not far from them-

“Nancy! Jeff! Are you guys still there?”

Byers’ voice comes out of nowhere. Like literally nowhere because even when Jeff spins around and expects to see him, he only sees

“Jonathan?” Wheeler calls out. Jeff bristles and slaps her arm to remind her that there’s an animal right in front of them.

But it’s too late. It catches the wolf’s attention too as its head snaps towards them-

That isn’t a wolf.

Wolves definitely don’t look large and human-like with slimy-looking skin with a head that opens up like a flower and screeches at them with multitudes of teeth.

Jeff and Wheeler scream together and run.

Except when Jeff rounds back to the tree with the portal, Wheeler runs past him.

“Wheeler, where are you going!? Exit’s this way!” He shouts. But she keeps running and the not-wolf thing is already thundering close.

“Nancy! Jeff! Where are you?”

Jeff facepalms himself and chases after her. He tries to ignore the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as the not-wolf growls closer.

He manages to catch up to Wheeler and grabs her arm. She shrieks, her hand flying up to his face. It stings a bit, but Jeff ignores it and pulls her back to the other direction. He looks up in time to see the not-wolf, toothy face wide open, barging right towards them.

Jeff thanks his wits for taking Byers’ gun. While he screams unceremoniously at the sight, he instinctively takes aim and fires at its mouth. The bang almost deafens him and the recoil nearly makes him drop the weapon.

The monster collapses on the ground, its clawed hands gripping its head, making pained whimpers. Jeff’s not sure if he actually hit it or if the gunfire sound blasted its eardrums. Either way, he takes half a second to catch his breath before running again, gripping tight around Wheeler’s wrist.

“Oh my god…” He hears her mutter and he’s inclined to agree. They dash back to the tree and Jeff sees the portal. But as they get closer, he sees that some of the bark is starting to close over-

“C’mon!” Jeff yells. There’s another inhuman shriek from behind.

“It’s getting up!” Wheeler gasps out.

They make it to the tree. And then Byers is popping his head through the slimy webs-

“Oh no, you don’t!” Jeff puts a hand on Byers’ head and shoves him back, ignoring his yelps as he hurriedly crawls through the gross hole again, dragging Wheeler behind him. Suddenly, it feels too tight and Jeff’s chest constricts at the thought of being trapped and crushed.

And then a whoosh of fresh warmer air refills his lungs.

The three of the them collapse on the ground. Jeff rolls on his back, taking big gulping breaths. The muscles in his legs are spasming mad and he knows they’re going to hurt like hurt tomorrow.

“Wh- What…” He hears Byers say, but he doesn’t bother to try and answer him.

He looks over at Wheeler, seeing her kick her legs free just as the slabs of bark close over the portal. The pink-orange glow remains just for a few seconds as thin rays of lights before it fades away. Like there’s never a hole to the cold woods with a monster.

Jeff stares at the tree where the portal used to be. Then he looks at Byers and Wheeler, then back at the tree.

He stands up with shaking legs. Then he points at the tree, “Fuck that. Fuck that thing.” Then he points at the two people he doesn’t ever want to see again. “And fuck you two. I’m going home.” He throws the pistol at their feet, turns his back at them, and walks faster than he ever did in his life.

—

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopter @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[nobody7102]

The Killjoy: Chapter 2

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Warnings: None (that I know of)

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! Taglist is CLOSED

Chapter 1. Chapter 3

Series Master-List

Main Master-List

Callsign: Killjoy

_______________________

Glancing between the files on her desk and the computer screen in front of her, Y/N typed away at a report before her hand went to flip a page of the file. Reading the first line of the page, a sigh escaped her lips before she pushed the chair away from the desk and stretched out her arms, a groan followed feeling the popping of her joints. 

She leaned forward and shifted though a few small stacks of paper before pulling out a separate file, as she opened it she leaned back in her chair. A frown formed over her lips as she read over the words on the page before flipping the paper over to read the back, yet before she could a knock pulled her from the page. Quickly setting the file down, she covered it up with a few other papers before clearing her throat “Come in” Opening the door Pete popped his head into the office before stepping in fully “Captain Mitchell” she sat up a bit straighter. “I was just finishing up printing out the reviews” 

Pete hummed “Oh good we can get those out to everyone… that’s actually not why I’m here” he paused looking to the ground before looking to Y/N “I wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier, I crossed a line and I shouldn’t have accused you of letting your past cloud your judgment… I of all people shouldn’t have gone that far and it was absolutely hypocritical of me...” he trailed off.

Standing from her chair she walked over to the printer in the temporary office, grabbing papers from it. “Maverick… It’s… fine really, If I were in your position… and given my flight history, I would have done the same” she cut the small pile of papers in half and handed them over to Pete. “I just hope that it won't be an issue again in the future” 

He shook his head taking the papers “No,” he hummed. “So I gave them the run down, these the reviews?” Y/N nodded as Maverick turned to hold open the door for Y/N “Then lets go criticize some pilots” he smirked.

Making their way to the hangear, Y/N read over the first name in her pile of reviews before setting the review down in front of Hangman. “Your reviews” she started before placing another i in front of Fanboy “Will be your guides to this mission, I can’t tell you how to fly because at this point in your career, none of you really give a shit anymore and have your own style” she continued to hand out the reviews in her hand before standing at the front of the group “But I can give you small points, for example I put this on all of your reviews, ‘Relax into the G’s you pull’ I know the practice course that was laid out doesn't have you pulling a lot of G’s but from what I did see, all of you are tense when you pull G’s” she watched as Maverick passed out the rest of his reviews. “I don’t know what you’ve been told to do for previous missions but you shouldn’t get G-lock in this terrain, it's mostly forrest so there’s no climbs, if there are then they’re small enough where you shouldn’t have to worry”

“Captain Y/L/N will be doing reviews after every lesson, if you have any questions about your reviews please see me or her” Pete crossed his arms watching the faces of his students as they read over their papers. “If you would like to practice your reviews, we’ve been given permission by Cyclone to use the facilities between 8 AM to 3 PM, you just need to inform myself, Killjoy, or Hondo… if none of you have any questions right now, then you’re all dismissed for the day”

Standing from their spots the pilots made their way out of the hangar. Pushing past the students, Y/N made her way to her office, cleaning up from the day. 

Only a few minutes of silence filled her office before there was a knock on her door again. 

Poking his head into the office Maverick eyed Y/N for a moment before he spoke “Everyone was talking about going to the Hard Deck for drinks, would you be interested in joining us?” He raised his brow.

Y/N’s eyes widened for a moment hearing the proposal “Oh… I didn’t think that th-” Maverick cut her off before she could continue “It’ll just be a way to blow off some steam, besides I think you’re gonna want to get to know your team beyond their flying.” 

Looking at the paperwork in front of her before looking to the clock, Y/N nodded “yeah you’re probably right” 

Maverick nodded back “Alright I’ll see you there”

Y/N watched as he left before gathering the small pile of paper in her hand, Y/N pulled open one of the desk drawers and slipped the papers inside before standing from her spot. Stretching her back as she did before she grabbed her coat off of the back of her chair and threw it on before making her way out of the office and to the parking lot. 

There was a pause in her walk as she approached her car, seeing Rooster, Payback, and Hangman admiring the car. “Come one guys, I know it’s nice but whoever the owner is, is gonna think you’re a creep” Payback commented as Rooster walked around the car and Hangman crouched down next to it admiring the details. 

“Oh come on Ruben, you're not the least bit curious about who owns this baby?” Hangman’s hand ghosted over the tires. “Bradshaw you curious?” he glanced over to him.

“No, Hangman I don’t want to know who has the vintage Fiat” Rooster’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Shaking her head, Y/N approached the group “You three looking for something” she placed her hands in her pocket.

“Yeah, the owner of this beauty… Do you know what this is Captin?” Hangman stood from his spot.

Letting out a chuckled Y/N fished the keys out of her pocket “I would be a little bit worried if I didn’t know, considering that I have the keys” she held them up, the clanking of the metal bringing the boys attention from the car back to her. “You guys like it?” she watched as they nodded.

“How did you get this?” Payback raised his brow 

“My dad” Y/N hummed “Then he got it from my grandpa” she walked over to the car and unlocked the door before turning back to the boys “You guys wanna look at the interior?”

Hangman’s eyes widened “Are you serious?” 

She nodded “I just watched the three of you stand and gak at my car for five minutes, go for it” she laughed “As long as you don’t take forever since I pretty sure we’re all supposed to be at the Hard Deck sometime soon” 

“Five minutes… ten tops” Rooster held up his fingers signaling as he, Hangman, and Payback climbed into the car to admire the inside. 

Not even three minutes later, Hangman and Rooster exited the car. “Its interesting that you still have the wood interior” Rooster hummed climbing out of the passenger seat. “I’ve never seen a ‘70s Spider in a condition this well, not to mention in Marsh Green?”

“Yeah my grandpa used it all the time, then when my dad got it he just kept it in the garage” she walked over to the top of the car “So by the time I got it, it was still in peak condition, Bradshaw do me a favor” she grabbed the edge of the soft top “Grab the other side and help me fold it down” he nodded helping her fold the hod down.

Before Y/N knew it she was unintentionally leading the four off to the Hard Deck, one car behind the other as they drove. Smiling, she watched as Hangman and Payback pulled their cars next to her on the road before honking and passing her. She laughed debating with herself if she wanted to tail them, desicing against it the marine kept the speed limit before the four of them pulled into the parking lot of the Hard Deck. “You drive like you fly Seresin” she commented as they all exited their cars. 

“I’ll take that as a good thing” Jake replied as they all made their way into the bar. Y/N took a moment to take in the atmosphere before she felt Rooster clap his hand onto her shoulder and lead her over to the pool tables where everyone else resided.

“Where were you guys and what the hell took you so long?” Phoenix stood up from her position at the pool, leaning against the cue. 

“We were just making acquaintances with Killjoy” Payback motioned to Y/N as he took his spot leaning against the back wall between Fanboy and Maverick.

Slipping from Rooster’s grisp Y/N surveyed the group before taking a seat with Bob at one of the high top tables that surrounded the pool area “We would have been here sooner but they were infatuated by my car” she laughed taking the cup of water that was offered to her by Bob. 

“She’s got a 1970 Spider Fiat” Payback hummed

“That thing still runs?” Bob took a sip of his water after he spoke to hide the smirk on his face “I thought it was junk after your little road trip” he’s smirk grew watching as Y/N’s eyes widened.

“Says you Floyd,” she laughed.

“So you two do know each other!” Phoenix leaned against the pool table “Now I have to know how this happened” she smiled watching as a light flush covered Bob’s ears and Y/N’s cheeks.

“We did basic training together” Bob eventually spoke “We were pretty much bunk mates, then we were in Top Gun at the same time… and we were in the same squadron for a while”

Hangman’s eyes widened “Bullshit, so you go on to join the best branch and Killjoy you opted for the Marines?!” 

Grabbing a stray peanut shell that resided on the table, Y/N threw it at Hangman “I could still kick your ass in training Marine or not Serein” she laughed “and so could the Screaming Eagles” she took another sip of the water before setting it down on the table, “I’ll be back” turning she made her way to the bar.

Once she was out of earshot Hangman lightly smacked Bob’s arm “Dude, you’re in good graces with Y/L/N, how have you not gotten some of that?” He lightly shook his shoulders “That is a pure 8 out of 10 Bob” 

Shoving Hangman’s hands off of his shoulder he shook his head, the blush on his ears deepening “Oh come on, it's not like that… we’ve just been through a lot together” 

“Being bunk mates I’m sure the two of you have been '' Fanboy jokes.

Sinking down into his seat Bob crossed his arms in front of himself as the group chuckled. The chuckles died down as Y/N came back to the group with a drink in hand, she took her previous spot before Rooster broke the silence.

“So Killjoy, what's the story behind your callsign? It’s not everyday you hear a sign like that?” he watched as Y/N took a sip of her drink before setting it down on the table.

“You first… Rooster” she smiled

Smiling back Rooster nodded “Well Maverick flew with my dad… his callsign was Goose… so the three of us are a flock of birds”

Y/N chuckled “It's a shame you didn’t go for a gaggle of geese” she joked “Well… Bob technically gave me my sign back in basic” 

Maverick furrowed his brows “What is a Killjoy anyways? I know the term used in a sentence but from how you fly and teach you’re anything but” 

A happy sigh came from Bob as he eyed the group as he spoke “How many of you know ‘The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys’?” he watched as Phoenix, Hangman, Fanboy, and Payback’s faces flashed in realization.

“No shit” 

“That’s fucking sick” “That’s insane”

“Hold on,” Rooster cut everyone off “please enlighten those who don’t know” 

Y/N and Bob looked at each other before Y/N said “Do you know the band My Chemical Romance?” she watched as a few people nodded “Before Bob and I would go up in the air I would always hum ‘Na Na Na’ and anytime we were in the air and I’d get nervous I’d hum it” 

“For the longest time her temporary callsign was ‘FM’ like the radio frequency, but we all got so sick of saying it that I just started calling her Killjoy over the comms and it just stuck” Bob chimed in.

Phoenix eyed the two of them before a smirk came to her lips “so you two would fly together” 

A sheepish smile came across Y/N’s lips “Yeah… Bobby used to be my backseater” 

Phoenix’s eyes widened “But you said you were Marine… Bob did you try to be a Marine?” Phoenix watched as both Bob and Y/N went extremely quite before Bob shook his head and Y/N answered 

“I um..” she looked down at her drink then back to Phoenix “I used to be Navy… I switched branches” 

Everyone eyed the two unsure what to do next before Hangman spoke up once more “What made you change your mind?” 

Y/N’s face paled a bit as she tried to think of an answer before Maverick spoke up “Hey who want another round on-” before he could finish his sentence the bell sounded as Penny pointed to some pour soul who had their phone resting on the bar. “Round on that guy” he finished “Y/N you wanna help me grab the drinks?” he watched as Y/n quickly got up from her seat to follow him.

_____________________

TAGLIST CLOSED

Killjoy/Bob Taglist: @masset-fotia @sparrows-corner @lovememesomeevesey @robertbobfloydlover @zaggprincess @awesome-fandom-princess @luckyladycreator2 @hotpigeon22 @alldaysdreamers @finja-caipirinha @juniebugg @liannisha @earth-to-lottie @winterrebel04 @kidsol-ar @airedale17 @bespinnn @fantasias-creativebubble @feireads @tispykeen @seasonswinter @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @tigerlillyyy @eg-dr3amer3 @revengze @m0chac0ffee @lizbradshaw @blog-name6996 @skylynch03 @ollyoxenfrees @massivedetectivestudent @fantasticcopeaglepasta @txtdreamss @honeyofthegods @alexwinchester23 @cowboybarbie @gretagerwigsmuse @ohh-to-be-a-frog @justthefckinggrainthings-blog @ireadthensuetheauthors @mistressslytherin @oscarissacsslut @jjlevin @johnnycobra84 @justthefckinggrainthings-blog @whateverbagman @masset-fotia

General taglist: @caswinchester2000

[luvbugs-blog]

sneaking around - s. todoroki

Warnings - None! Just Fluff!

part two

*not proof-read*

Arranging your baking items on the counter of the shared kitchen of the Class 2-A dorms, you stand bake and take a deep breath in, hands on your hips. Today had been a particularly hard day at training, and although you worked your ass off fighting against your friends, sitting in your dorm made you feel unproductive. Your legs were sore as hell, and your arms burned when you moved them, but the smell of the brownie mix on the counter made you smile.

It was around 9:30 at night, so your best friends, the Bakusquad, would either be asleep right now (Bakugo), or trying to wake those who were asleep (Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Denki). You rolled your eyes with a smirk just thinking about how pissed Bakugo will be when he wakes up. As your mind wandered from your friends to someone else, you carefully placed the brownie mix into the oven. As you went to close the door, you heard a small greeting that made you jump, burning your hand.

"Shit!" You whirled around, holding your hand to see your handsome boyfriend, looking very sheepish. "Oh, hi Sho! You scared me."

"I apologize," he said, walking up to you, quickly taking your hand in his, cooling down the burn with his quirk. You quickly smile at him, before turning your head to hide the blush coming. Although the two of you had been dating for a year, Shoto's small intimate actions made your heart burst with happiness.

As the brownies baked in the oven, you and Shoto talked about your days, and future dates you wanted to go on, including one tonight, which included popcorn, Moulin Rouge, cuddling in Shoto's dorm, and of course, the brownies. There was only one problem. No one else knew about your relationship.

It's not that either of you were ashamed of each other, but it was the first relationship either of you had been in, and you didn't want to jinx anything by telling everyone right away. 6 months later, you guys didn't care if anyone found out, but it was fun to sneak around... like spies (which was weird considering you were both future heroes). Oh well, more practice for the future.

You jumped when you hear the timer on the oven, which shocked you out of memories of the past. You quickly removed yourself from Shoto's embrace, which issued a whine from his lips. You giggle when you look back to see his pouty face. Turning back around to give your attention to the brownies, you carefully set them on the counter, but were immediately attacked by your boyfriend, who wrapped his arms tightly around you back, nestling his face in your neck. You lean back into him.

"I love you Sho. So much." You hear mumbling back, and take that as an 'I love you' back. You hum in response.

"I can't wait to marry you," Shoto says, turning his head so he is comprehensible. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

You know how hard it is for Shoto to talk about his feelings, so this made you almost tear up. You turn around and smile. "I can't wait to grow old with you as well, baby."

Shoto gives you a smile, and leans forward, catching your lips. For a few minutes, you guys kiss, and giggle to each other, and kiss some more, before you hear the boisterous noises of the rest of the Bakusquad coming your way, probably to raid the cabinets. The two of you reluctantly part, but not before you hear another whine from Shoto.

"I'll see you later tonight!"

"Yes, tonight. I already can't wait to see you, love."

"You're so clingy, Sho." He blushes, so you're quick to add, "I love that about you."

By this point, Mina bounds in, and Denki makes a quick break for the brownies on the counter, but you manage to save them by slapping his hand away. You talk to Kirishima for a bit, asking if the Bakugo plan worked, and occasionally slapping Denki's AND Sero's hand away from the brownies that you planned to share with your lover tonight.

Speaking of your lover, you say, "Todoroki-san, did you need anythi-", but he wasn't there. The rest of the group starts mocking you, because they knew about your crush on Shoto for a while.

You start slapping at them to stop, trying to think of an excuse to finally slip away.

-------------------------------------------------------------

You finally slip away from your friends, and make your way to Shoto's room, trying not to be seen, and trying not to drop your brownies.

Finally! Finally you made it, and you carefully opened the door, you didn't see Shoto anywhere.

"Sho?" You set the brownies on his bed, and peek into the bathroom, whose light was on, but he wasn't in there either. Where was this guy?

You turn around and scream, which made Shoto laugh so hard. You put your hand on your chest, trying not to have a heart attack, but you can't help but to smile, because Shoto, in pajama pants and a toothbrush in his hand, is hunched over, still laughing hard.

"God, Sho," you say as you smack him.

"Hi baby," he responds, still chuckling. You huff and flop on the bed, hoping to relax, but quickly sit up again when you hear a knock on the door. Shoto points to his bathroom, and gives you a small wink before turning towards the door. Looking back once again, he sees you go into the bathroom, and shut the door. His attention is once again towards the door, as the knocking continues.

"Todoroki-san?" He opens the door to see Midoryia standing there. He grins at Shoto, before continuing. "I came to check on you. I thought I heard screaming."

Shoto clears his throat, before mentioning something about the television and promptly shuts the door before giving the observant green haired man any clues about who might actually be in the room.

After making sure the coast was clear, Shoto opens his bathroom door, allowing you to walk out into his arms. You give him a quick peck on the lips, and then drag him to the bed, where you guys watch movies for the rest of the night before falling asleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Mina was looking for you. She looked in the kitchen, your room, the common room. And you were no where to be found. So she got the entire class looking for you. All except for one man.

After 20 minutes of looking, they all arrived at Shoto's dorm. And upon slowly opening the door, they see the two of you all cuddled up, your leg thrown over his hips, and his face in your chest.

Oh, the amount of shit you're going to get when you wake up. But for now, it's best to let the two of you sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Sorry about the ending... I kinda blanked. I'm thinking about doing a drabble with Izuku! If you like it, please send requests! I would love to write more! Have a great day everyone!

[zytes]

I know that the average person’s opinion of AI is in a very tumultuous spot right now - partly due to misinformation and misrepresentation of how AI systems actually function, and partly because of the genuine risk of abuse that comes with powerful new technologies being thrust into the public sector before we’ve had a chance to understand the effects; and I’m not necessarily talking about generative AI and data-scraping, although I think that conversation is also important to have right now. Additionally, the blanket term of “AI” is really very insufficient and only vaguely serves to ballpark a topic which includes many diverse areas of research - many of these developments are quite beneficial for human life, such as potentially designing new antibodies or determining where cancer cells originated within a patient that presents complications. When you hear about artificial intelligence, don’t let your mind instantly gravitate towards a specific application or interpretation of the tech - you’ll miss the most important and impactful developments.

Notably, NVIDIA is holding a keynote presentation from March 18-21st to talk about their recent developments in the field of AI - a 16 minute video summarizing the “everything-so-far” detailed in that keynote can be found here - or in the full 2 hour format here. It’s very, very jargon-y, but includes information spanning a wide range of topics: healthcare, human-like robotics, “digital-twin” simulations that mirror real-world physics and allow robots to virtually train to interact and navigate particular environments — these simulated environments are built on a system called the Omniverse, and can also be displayed to Apple Vision Pro, allowing designers to interact and navigate the virtual environments as though standing within them. Notably, they’ve also created a digital sim of our entire planet for the purpose of advanced weather forecasting. It almost feels like the plot of a science-fiction novel, and seems like a great way to get more data pertinent to the effects of global warming.

It was only a few years ago that NVIDIA pivoted from being a “GPU company” to putting a focus on developing AI-forward features and technology. A few very short years; showing accelerating rates of progress. This is whenever we began seeing things like DLSS and ray-tracing/path-tracing make their way onto NVIDIA GPUs; which all use AI-driven features in some form or another. DLSS, or Deep-Learning Super Sampling, is used to generate and interpolate between frames in a game to boost framerate, performance, visual detail, etc - basically, your system only has to actually render a handful of frames and AI generates everything between those traditionally-rendered frames, freeing up resources in your system. Many game developers are making use of DLSS to essentially bypass optimization to an increasing degree; see Remnant II as a great example of this - runs beautifully on a range of machines with DLSS on, but it runs like shit on even the beefiest machines with DLSS off; though there are some wonky cloth physics, clipping issues, and objects or textures “ghosting” whenever you’re not in-motion; all seem to be a side effect of AI-generation as the effect is visible in other games which make use of DLSS or the AMD-equivalent, FSR.

Now, NVIDIA wants to redefine what the average data center consists of internally, showing how Blackwell GPUs can be combined into racks that process information at exascale speeds — which is very, very fucking fast — speeds like that have only ever actually been achieved on some 4 or 5 machines on the planet, and I think they’ve all been quantum-based machines until now; not totally certain. The first exascale computer came into existence in 2022, called Frontier, it was deemed the fastest supercomputer in existence in June 2023 - operating at some 1.19 exaFLOPS. Notably, this computer is around 7,300 sq ft in size; reminding me of the space-race era supercomputers which were entire rooms. NVIDIA’s Blackwell DGX SuperPOD consists of around 576 GPUs and operates at 11.5 exaFLOPS, and is about the size of standard row of server racks - much smaller than an entire room, but still quite large. NVIDIA is also working with AWS to produce Project Ceiba, another supercomputer consisting of some 20,000GPUs, promising 400 exaFLOPS of AI-driven computation - it doesn’t exist yet.

To make my point, things are probably only going to get weirder from here. It may feel somewhat like living in the midst of the Industrial Revolution, only with fewer years in between each new step. Advances in generative-AI are only a very, very small part of that — and many people have already begun to bury their heads in the sand as a response to this emerging technology - citing the death of authenticity and skill among artists who choose to engage with new and emerging means of creation. Interestingly, the Industrial Revolution is what gave birth to modernism, and modern art, as well as photography, and many of the concerns around the quality of art in this coming age-of-AI and in the post-industrial 1800s largely consist of the same talking points — history is a fucking circle, etc — but historians largely agree that the outcome of the Industrial Revolution was remarkably positive for art and culture; even though it took 100 years and a world war for the changes to really become really accepted among the artists of that era. The Industrial Revolution allowed art to become detached from the aristocratic class and indirectly made art accessible for people who weren’t filthy rich or affluent - new technologies and industrialization widened the horizons for new artistic movements and cultural exchanges to occur. It also allowed capitalist exploitation to ingratiate itself into the western model of society and paved the way for destructive levels of globalization, so: win some, lose some.

It isn’t a stretch to think that AI is going to touch upon nearly every existing industry and change it in some significant way, and the events that are happening right now are the basis of those sweeping changes, and it’s all clearly moving very fast - the next level of individual creative freedom is probably only a few years away. I tend to like the idea that it may soon be possible for an individual or small team to create compelling artistic works and experiences without being at the mercy of an idiot investor or a studio or a clump of illiterate shareholders who have no real interest in the development of compelling and engaging art outside of the perceived financial value that it has once it exists.

If you’re of voting age and not paying very much attention to the climate of technology, I really recommend you start keeping an eye on the news for how these advancements are altering existing industries and systems. It’s probably going to affect everyone, and we have the ability to remain uniquely informed about the world through our existing connection with technology; something the last Industrial Revolution did not have the benefit of. If anything, you should be worried about KOSA, a proposed bill you may have heard about which would limit what you can access on the internet under the guise of making the internet more “kid-friendly and safe”, but will more than likely be used to limit what information can be accessed to only pre-approved sources - limiting access to resources for LGBTQ+ and trans youth. It will be hard to stay reliably informed in a world where any system of authority or government gets to spoon-feed you their version of world events.